


The Journey to Greatness

by tmac2271



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Mostly canon with small deviations, Multi, Original Character(s), References from the first two games, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmac2271/pseuds/tmac2271
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every great war has it's heroes.</p><p>Maxwell Trevelyan does not believe he is worthy of being a hero. However, he has no choice as he is the only one with the power to close the breach. Unfortunately for him, goodhearted people don't succeed as leaders during these dark times, but how many monsters can he face before becoming one himself? Will friendship, love, and loyalty be enough? Or will it come crashing down?</p><p>Here is his journey, told through the eyes of his companions and him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story told in different POV's. I want to thank my beta Rachel for correcting my mistakes. I want to thank the dragon age community that inspired me to write this story based on my playthrough. 
> 
> Here is a photo of my Inquisitor to help you visualize.
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> [](http://s1111.photobucket.com/user/tmac2271/media/11148451_10205942244331858_8593862847668251806_n.jpg.html)  
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**9:41 Dragon**

**Cassandra POV (Haven prison)**

Leliana and I enter the room where we see the prisoner and possible murderer. His left hand still glows and I'm relieved that his hands are bound by two different locks. He stares at the floor and refuses to meet anyone's gaze - something that an innocent person wouldn't do. The four guards surrounding him sheathe their swords as I walk around him.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." I begin though my mind is mostly made up already "The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead," I position myself to face him directly "except........for you"

He offers no response. I grow impatient.

I grab his left hand and stare straight into his eyes. "Explain this." I hiss. His hand begins to glow again and I force it back to the floor.

He looks at me for the first time. "I...can't."

Unbelievable. "What do you mean you 'cant'?!"

"I have no idea how thi-"

I unsheathe my sword. "You're lying!!"

I'm about to strike him when Leliana grabs my arm and firmly eases me back.

"We need him Cassandra."

We always have had different methods. She might be right but I'm still unsure. However, I must not allow him to see us disagree openly. I step back and allow her to continue the interrogation.

He looks at her and appears to be pleading "So...uh.. What now?"

"Do you remember what happened? How it began?"

"I just remember running because some creatures were chasing me.....I thought I saw a woman."

Leliana crosses her arms "A woman?"

"She reached out to me but..."

This is leading us nowhere. I look at Leliana. "Go to the forward camp. I will take him to the rift." She nods and leaves and I face him. I remove the wooden lock but maintain the other.

"What did happen?" he whispers as I pull him forward.

"It will be easier to show you." I state flatly, shooting him a final glance before walking out the door, him following behind me. Outside the breach has gotten wider. The sky would've looked peaceful if not for the horrible green cloud that led to a portal of demons. "We call it 'The Breach'." I explain, not bothering to face him. "It's a massive rift into a world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave."

"An explosion..." he whispered as I turned to face him.

"Unless we act," I begin, "the Breach may grow until it swallows the world." As if to prove my point, the breach lights up like lightning. The prisoner screams as he collapses to the ground. I bend down so we're at eye level. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn't much time."

He scowls as his eyes lock with mine. "I don't seem to have much of a choice." He seems angry but he is in no condition to argue.

I yank him to his feet and drag him past the sea of angry onlookers. "They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our most holy, Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars.”

I suddenly find myself angry. "She brought their leaders together. Now they're dead!" I exclaim. I can feel myself getting angrier and I take a deep breath. "We lash out, like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves, as she did, at least until the Breach is closed." I say in a more subdued tone.

With a bit of reluctance I unsheathe a small blade and free the prisoner from his last shackle. "There will be a trial. I can promise no more." I turn around and began walking "Come. It is not far."

"W-What? Where are we-"

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the rift." I explain

We walk the path in silence. My heart aches as I think about Divine Justinia again, how I failed her. It seems like so long ago I was able to do the impossible with the help of the Maker. I was able to save the previous Divine, Beatrix III, by defeating a Prime demon abomination named Frenic, along with his minions. I should have been able to protect Justinia as her right hand.

Leliana and I have done all we can in preparation for the rising conflict with the Templars and Mages. Unfortunately, we were unable to find a worthy Inquisitor to begin the Inquisition. The Warden Commander mysteriously disappeared, and we still have no word about the whereabouts of the Champion of Kirkwall.

I'm sure the dwarf knows more than he is letting on. I barely believe anything he says.

The prisoner collapses again but refuses to let me help him. His mark is spreading. I wonder wha-- My legs give out as the floor crumbles under us. I collide onto the frozen lake and my breath escapes me. I glance at the destroyed bridge but my attention returns to a demon that appeared from the rift. A Shade.

"Stay behind me!" I demand, my sword at the ready. The demon lurches and I rush forward, slamming my shield into it. It claws away at the hard wood but is unable to penetrate my shield. I slam my shield against it harder this time, knocking the demon back. I quickly stab the beast in the chest, slaying it.

"It's over." I say, turning to face the prisoner who is reaching for a bow and quiver, the weapon of one of the fallen archers of Haven.

I began walking towards him, my blade outward, anticipating conflict. "Drop your weapon. NOW!"

He loads his arrow and I'm prepared to block with my shield when the arrow flies past me and a Shade lets out a shriek behind me. The arrow plunges deep into its skull before the form evaporates into a grayish black cloud.

"Attacking the only person giving me a chance to prove my innocence is foolish," he says flatly, the bow now slung on his back, "I agreed to help but I'm no use to you dead." He looks at the floor "I hope." he mutters.

He has a point. I drop the issue but gesture for him to walk ahead of me as I guide him. He rolls his eyes but walks ahead of me without hesitation. It's possible that I misjudged him… Slightly possible.

**Varric (Valley outskirts)**

I expected better from Cassandra's men. They act like they have never fought a demon before. What started as a simple 5 on 3 battle quickly became a 2 on 3 battle. Okay, so maybe we slayed the first 3 demons that are generally known as "lesser shades", and maybe during our impromptu cheers ANOTHER 3 appear out the blue and impaled the two warriors with their hideous claws. One should never underestimate.

They're coming after me now and seem to be ignoring Chuckles thanks to his aura trick. His name is Solas but I find Chuckles more fitting. Bianca, my crossbow, finds the demon to my right in her crosshairs and I fire once. The form evaporates.

That's one down, but the other two are too close for comfort. On instinct I throw my smoke bomb and embrace the shadows before their claws sink into me. Now they're coming at Chuckles but he doesn't flinch. He aims his staff and fries the two shits with a single lightning bolt. Glad he's on my side.

I compliment him with a thumbs up that goes ignored. In his defense, it's hard to accept a compliment from a dwarf that's practically invisible. I step out of the shadows just in time to greet another wave of demons. 5 Shades this time. All rushing towards me.

"Chuckles!" I throw myself backward, my bolt killing one as the other four rush at me. They're too close and I feel my grip on Bianca loosen as my energy is sucked away. My vision gets cloudy. Claws everywhere. A barrier engulfs me and I'm spared from a death blow. I tighten my grip on Bianca and aim at the one on the far left hoping Chuckles will be a team player and not let me get killed. An arrow lands in its skull but it's not my bolt. I aim at the one next to it but I see it dragged away. Grappling hook. I risk a glance and see the Seeker and what looked like a rogue companion at her side. That's not right.

Whatever it was, I use the opportunity to take out the last two demons. I feel fine, but I know it's because my adrenaline is still at its peak. I reach into my pocket and ingest a dosage of red liquid; my vision returns and I allow myself a soft exhale. I look over and see Chuckles and the strange man close the rift with that glowing mark of his. The prisoner. He looks at Chuckles as if he's a god, even though he was the one who technically closed the rift. A fact that Chuckles make perfectly clear, even telling the man that he could 'hold the key to our salvation'.

"Good to know." I begin, deciding this was a good time to introduce myself if any. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." I approach the man. "Varric Tethras: Rogue, Storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tag along." I throw a wink at Cassandra for good measure and she doesn't disappoint me with her response.

"I'm Maxwell. Nice to meet you, Varric," the man stated with a slight smile - a gesture that Cassandra has yet to master - "and your crossbow too"

"Thank you. Bianca and I have been through a lot together."

"Bianca?"

"Yes indeed, and she'll be great company in the valley."

"Absolutely not!" Cassandra began in her usual killjoy demeanor. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but..."

"Have you been in the Valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore." My voice adopts a sing-song tone at the last three words, "You need me."

She makes a big deal out of that and storms away but no one cares. Chuckles introduces himself and Maxwell looks at him again with great veneration. I mean he only kept Maxwell from being killed by his own hand. I guess a little astonishment is appropriate. We begin our way towards the forward camp.

Killing the demons along the way was surprisingly easy but the small talk was nearly impossible between Chuckles’ and the Seekers’ repeated insistence on reaching the forward camp and Maxwell's silence. We reach another rift and quickly take out the demons with Maxwell closing the rift without help.

The Spymaster and Chancellor Roderick greet us on our timely arrival. I guess I should add that the Chancellor ordered for Maxwell to be taken away and executed in Val Royeaux, but this request was so asinine that no one offered a response.

"Order me?!" Cassandra stepped forward, ruining our one moment of solidarity. "You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!"

"And you are thug, one that supposedly supports the chantry." The Chancellor hissed.

"They're really talking about me like I'm not here." Maxwell mutters, seemingly to himself, as the Spymaster and Seeker go back and forth with the Chancellor.

I give him a nudge "In their defense, two of them are not well known for their diplomacy."

The subject changes to the best strategy for reaching the temple. The Seeker wants us to charge through with the soldiers. The Spymaster recommends we approach from the mountain. I can already see where this is going. A good friend of mine had been forced into these circumstances before. I look away as the other pair of eyes fall on Maxwell asking for his decision. We wait.

 

**3 Days later**

**Solas (Haven)**

The Rift is as beautiful as it is frightening. I stand mesmerized by it. I know the rift acts as a connection between this world and the demons in the fade, but there's more to it than that. I have journeyed through the fade and discovered and done many incredible things. Ruins that were long forgotten. I interacted with demons safely. I believe the interpretations of the fade vary on the mindset of the individual. Unfortunately this has led to our current dilemma.

Pride demons are a perfect example of this dilemma. They manifest themselves in the forms that are most fatal to the humans mortal code. They use mankind's own nature against them. The demon we encountered at the temple of sacred ashes attempted to use our fears against us. Maxwell, I mean the Herald, proved his competence in weakening the creature and successfully stabilizing the rift. He requires more resources before he's able to close it. The Inquisition has officially been reborn. I hope that this Inquisition avoids repeating the mistakes of their predecessors.

Thedas was plunged into chaos following the end of the first blight. Mages were largely considered evil and the Inquisition was formed with the goal of "protecting people from the tyranny of magic" in whatever way it was manifested. The Chantry, Templar Order, and the Circle of Magi were all created subsequently, and now the Templar-Mage rebellion is at its worst. The irony. People throughout Thedas has learned to fear mages, especially someone like myself; an Apostate.

 

I enter the Tavern and approach the Innkeeper. I believe her name is Flissa. I can hear the song performed by the Bard and the patrons engrossed in conversation.

 _Can you_  
_Guide me_  
_To the revolt inside me_

"Greetings, can I get you a drink?" Flissa asks. Her smile appears genuine.  
"I would be grateful for a cup of tea."  
"I'm sorry, we ran out of elfroot. I informed sister Leliana. Can I get you anything else?”

"Oh, no bother. Thank you." I turn and walk towards the exit and stop as I feel leers surrounding me. Their eyes drift from me to the two soldiers blocking the exit. The song continues with no interruption.

 _Templar_  
_Igniting_  
_Fire Inside me_

The soldier on my left glared at me and muttered "Knife Ear" as the two soldiers simultaneously brush past me. I'm knocked back but I remain upright.

 _Gone are the days_  
_Of our peace_.

I exit without a backwards glance. Brutes. How predictable.  
Outside I notice the Herald shaking hands with two refugees. He waves and motions toward me.

"The chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all." I notice there's a hint of haughtiness to my voice which was not my intention.

He puffs his chest and a grin flashes his face. "Am I riding in on a shining steed?"

"I would've suggested a griffon, but sadly they're extinct. Joke as you will, posturing is necessary."

I turn and look upwards towards the rift. "I've journeyed deep into the fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. "

I face him once more, "Every great war has it's heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

His face darkens for a moment and he averts his gaze slightly before he looks at me again. "Hopefully I'll be a worthy hero."

"I see. Time will determine that prophecy then." He looks at me and now I avert my gaze. "I will stay then. At least until the breach has been closed"

"Unsure?"

I give him a bland stare "I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion. Cassandra has been accommodating but you understand my caution." Especially after what happened briefly before this conversation.

He shrugs, "We need you. I wouldn't even know how to seal these rifts if not for you. You're safe here Solas."

"Thank you. For now let us hope that either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the breach." I want to ask him a question but I'm unsure how he'll react.

The Herald nods and begins to turn away. My curiosity gets the better of me.

"Herald, can I ask you something?"

He faces me once more, "Yes?"

"On our way towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes, you chose to take the mountain path. Why?"

"I wanted to confirm the status of the missing scout party."

"I see. The choice was not in vain."

Silence stretches between us. I can't describe the look on his face but he appears to be contemplative.

"We're heading out to the Hinterlands shortly. I should go." I stare after him as he walks away.

Yes. It will be very interesting to see how he turns out.

**5 Days Later**

**Maxwell Aka The Herald (Hinterlands: Acquisition camp)**

We've reached camp after journeying for four days and five nights. Varric, Cassandra, and Solas are sound asleep but I lay awake in the tent. Varric's obnoxious snoring is impossible to handle. I now see why Varric's tent always had more room than the others. There's more to it than that though. My stomach feels full with butterflies and I can barely breathe. It's been like that since we arrived. It all felt like a blur, walking the path with little resistance, meeting Scout Harding and being briefed about the warring Templars and Mages. Now I know that it's real and I have to act. I'm frightened.

I am certainly not the blessed hero of anyone or anything. I am a pawn but I will play along until we can close this breach. It's not like I have a choice. Cassandra made it pretty clear that the Inquisition was the only thing standing between life and death for me. Some people have been kind to me, but others… I see the way they look at me. They still believe I did this.

Is it my fault? I don't know. No, it can't be. But... is it? I still can't explain how this happened to me or why I was at the conclave, or - what the… Okay breathe… breathe… again. My body feels sluggish but I can't stay in this tent. I walk out and observe three soldiers standing watch around the perimeter. No, make that five. My coat and boats are removed but it's evening and mostly everyone is asleep except for the guards so it matters not. I cross to the table next to the potion tent, gravel crunching under my feet. I'm relieved to see ten bottles ready and sealed for us to take come dawn. Will that be enough for the four of us? Will I be enough?

I sit at the fireplace hugging myself for warmth. I need to focus on what I do know. I am of the Trevelyan family in Ostwick. I love my aunt Lucille and tolerate my father at best. Ambassador Montiliyet's family is on good terms with mine. I attended their last party in Antiva, though reluctantly. I haven't had the heart to admit that to her. Between Cassandra and Leliana, it's hard to describe which one is more frightening. Varric has been friendly and Solas... cordial. I have yet to speak to the Commander but I purposely avoided him. I don't have anything against him, I just always resented my father for constantly reminding me that I had to choose soon between serving either the Chantry or the Templars. I have no interest in either.

But enough of the whining. I have to focus. The mission is simple. I just have to reach Mother Gisele and convince her to join the Inquisition. Cassandra, will be more suited for that. I'll have to deal with the Templars and the Mages but so far, we haven't heard from them. Maybe they moved on from this area. Templars should be...

My thoughts fade to black.

 

When I come to, Cassandra is shaking me violently. I can barely make out what she's saying.

"...rald - HERALD!!!!!! Wake up. The Templars and Mages are fighting ahead of us!"

Coats and boots are handed to me and I fumble to dress myself. I'm hauled to my feet and my legs feel limp. I reach to Cassandra for support but she's already rushing forward and I nearly topple over as Solas runs past me.

"Herald, quickly!" Solas exclaimed.

I will myself to keep up with him. My lungs are burning and my vision still slightly blurry but I'm moving.

"Herald!” Someone shouts.

"I'm moving!" I retort, wishing everyone would stop berating me. I'm moving as fast as I can. I ignore the subsequent shouts. It sounds like it's coming from behind me but everyone is screaming and I can't focus. Just keep forward.

I proceed down the trail and my momentum wears out. Solas and Cassandra stop ahead where they are concealed by tall trees near the bottom of the hill. I slow down into a walk and attempt to catch my breath; legs and lungs are both burning. I suddenly feel a presence behind me.

"That's far enough. Time to die!"

I spin and reach for my bow but my hand grasp nothing but air. I pat my back but it's empty. I forgot my weapon. Panic rises through my chest and I scramble for something to say to prolong my life a bit longer until my eyes lock onto Varric in front of me laughing.

He cleared his throat "I'm glad I have your attention. I believe you're forgetting something?" He hands me my bow and quiver.

A number of responses came to my head, but all I could do was exhale sharply as the drumming of my heartbeat deafened my thoughts.

I gave him a weak nod and continued forward, avoiding eye contact with Cassandra and Solas since I know that they saw that.

"Do you smell that?" Cassandra asked and for the first time i'm grateful that she is... well, the way she is.

I take a whiff but the smell is unmistakeable. A wretched combination of blood, burning, and shit, meaning one thing. Death. Or more accurate, murder.

"Yes." I respond.

"Mother Gisele will not be too far. The Templar and Mage war has traveled too close to their resting area. We can't let them extend any further."

I nod and we continued walking without speaking. From 100 yards away we see our first body. A rebel mage, beheaded. I tear my gaze away and stay forward. The pile of bodies continue. A collection of Mages and Templars lay before us. The stench is at its strongest here. My throat is dry but I breathe through my mouth because the stench is unbearable.

Shouting ahead. It wont be long now. We find cover behind a large tree and peer onto the field below us. I can't put into words what I'm witnessing. All I can see is chaos. Mages and Templars fill the arena. There have to be twenty at least. One mage is assaulted by three knights at once, blades piercing his flesh. A Templar is on the ground writhing in a pool of blood, his body in flames.

"Oh maker" Cassandra says. Solas only shakes his head in disapproval.

"We can't take them all, Seeker." Varric states. "Let them weed each other out first."

Cassandra grunts but even she would have to agree that Varric is right. There's just too many. I watch helplessly as someone is murdered, either by steel, fire, ice, or just bare hands. The agony of a man's last words that is either abruptly cut short, or slowly fades away. I can't imagine which is worse.

This is what divine Justinia has worked to end peacefully, but there's no peace now. And based on what i'm seeing, I don't think there will be.

The numbers are dwindling and I can only see a total of eight. Three mages and five Templars. Make that two Mages as another is struck down a few yards away from me. She falls to her knees and the knight plunges his sword through her heart. The two mages begin retreating as the other four Templars give chase.

One remains here, inspecting the corpse of his latest victim. My heart is racing and I take deliberate slow breathes to gather some courage, the bow in my hand. My fingers fumble on the arrow as I take aim. One. Two. Three. My arrow flies through his neck and I already know that he is dead.

That was the first time I murdered a living person.

I know that it won’t be the last.


	2. The Road Ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a special thanks to my awesome beta reader Rachel for making sure my gibberish ramblings make sense. Thank you to everyone who read this fanfiction so far. I appreciate the comments whether on here or on my facebook. 
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter =D

**9:41 Dragon**

**Varric (Hinterlands Refugees Crossroads)**

Maxwell and I crouch above a hill top, overlooking the field of abandoned houses. Many houses are in flames but some remain intact. The Seeker and Chuckles are northeast of us. They are flanked by refugee soldiers near the bottom of the hill path. The Seeker is speaking to one in particular who goes by the name of Corporal Vale. I can’t hear what they're talking about but I imagine it concerns the group of Templars currently heading this way. According to the soldiers, Mother Giselle and other refugees reside in the house below us, hidden from view. It is imperative that we keep her alive. In my opinion, however, the Herald should be right beside her. The first reason is because he's the symbol of the Inquisition. The second is because he's becoming a liability.  He is visibly shaken and is doing a terrible job hiding it.

"He deserved it you know." I whisper, my eyes scanning the area.

 I'm fine Varric," he responded, also scanning the area. It's the first thing he's said since he killed that Templar hours ago.

 "You are far from fine, and that's ok. In just the past few days, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the army of the faithful. You also just killed a living person for the first time."

 "You don't know that."

 "Oh? Maybe I'm wrong, but I always find it fascinating you know?"

 "What are you saying?"

 "Hunting for instance. A man could rationalize killing an animal for the purpose of survival even if he didn't want to. It's harder to rationalize killing a living being, especially one of your own race. The easiest way to cope is by turning that person into a beast within your mind. That is not without consequence. Remember that."

 He remains silent, but releases a long, drawn out breath. Well I tried.

 Templars; they are descending the hill northwest from us. A group of nearly fourteen soldiers march in unison, their weapons sheathed. They are not prepared for battle right now. I fire a bolt that lands at the foot of a nearby refugee soldier who appears a bit on edge. He falls to the floor, out of shock I imagine. I don't need to be down there to know the Seeker is not amused. At least I got her attention. I tilt bianca northwest and she gets the signal. They begin moving further east, disappearing from view. The Templars are now crossing the small cross bridge, towards the hill our group just departed. Only a few yards away now.

 "Do we really have to do this?" He asks mildly, already reaching for an arrow.

 "We're about to find out," I respond.

 Chuckles and Corporal Vale begin walking towards their original spot. Their weapons are visible but remain holstered. I suggested that to make the encounter appear more accidental. Being weaponless in the middle of a battle zone would only appear suspicious. The Templars instinctively unsheathe their weapons upon contact with the two strangers across from them. Chuckles and the Corporal immediately raise their hands in surrender and proceed to back away, shouting desperately for peace, but that does little to satisfy the Templars. They charge in unison towards my friend. A few feet away and...

 BOOM!! Nine men lift helplessly in the air with chunks of dirt and shrapnel. The other men fall onto the floor, desperately scrambling to their feet.

Chuckles immediately aims his staff and the airborne men are collectively fried by lightning. My first bolt sinks into a man attempting to retreat a second before the Herald's arrow pierces the man on the ground.  We continue this until the remaining men are killed.

 "It's done." I say, strapping Bianca behind me.

 "Yeah." He replies, his shoulders slump.

 It really is done. The reason we executed that maneuver so professionally is because that was our fourth ambush. The Spymaster's scouts have monitored the Templar’s movements for days prior to our arrival. There are more stretched out further within the Hinterlands but we cleared them out of this area.  The Seeker and the refugees appear, dragging the fallen men out of view where they'll be burnt like the others.

 "Hey," I stand, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. It's not often I get to do this to a human. "They wouldn't have listened to reason. Trust me on that."

 "It's good to know you have traps at the ready for when they don't," he responded with a half smile. It's a start.

 "Yeah... that was the last of the materials. The Seeker was not concerned about my inventory when she 'requested' my assistance."

 "I'm afraid to ask."

 "Good. That is a story for another time, when she is in earshot. That way you get live commentary."

 Now his smile is genuine. We descend the hill top and stop halfway before the end.

 "Varric," the Herald looks at me, "About earlier-"

 I wave my hand dismissively, "Don't worry about that. Just remember what I said."

 We stay silent as we approach Chuckles who remained where we last saw him, though he is now sitting. The Herald and I sit beside him forming a mini triangle. Exhaustion is apparent as Chuckles is drenched in sweat.

 "How are you Solas?" Maxwell asks.

 "My mana is nearly depleted but I should have most of my strength back by nightfall."

 Maxwell arched his brow, "I thought we prepared potions to take care of that."

 "We have. I still have a full supply, but they are for emergency purposes."

 "You have quite the stamina Chuckles," I cut in, "Cassandra was pretty thorough in her recruitment."

 "Cassandra? That is probably the first time you called her by her first name. I was not aware you two bonded. Are you feeling okay?" A hint of a smirk crosses his face.

 I find myself grinning, "Touche."

 "It is hard to say no to her. She can be very persuasive," Maxwell says as if he recalled a nightmare. Crudeness is the last thing anyone can say about him.

 "Speaking of..." Chuckles begins, " Varric, you joined the inquisition when Lady Pentaghast questioned you?"

 "She was very insistent that I help," I reply.

 "Interesting."

 "What's interesting?"

 "It surprised me that the elven apostate is the one who joined the inquisition voluntarily."

We abruptly fall silent, looking at one another. After that, laughter. Genuine, simultaneous laughter.

 

**Maxwell**

Solas requested some privacy to meditate so I'm currently doing a perimeter check of the area. I have yet to have a private conversation with Mother Giselle but there are other matters to attend to. Many of the refugees have asked for the following: food, shelter, and safety. I heard about the ram roaming near the hills further south and I plan to go there. Sundown will be here soon. I can at least give these people some food.

 Nearly everyone inside the houses emerged after we killed the remaining Templars within the area. The injured are still inside. I enter and I'm assaulted by the stench of sweat, vomit and blood. I hear collected moans from five people on stretched out beds. People walk briskly back and forth, dumping their rags in boiling water and allowing it to cool before resting it on their bodies. They must be suffering from chills. A few of the Chantry mages are doing their best to heal them but their efforts only seem to be working on two of them. I walk to the bedside of a woman. She attempts to form words but they fall into breathless, unintelligible sounds.

 "Are you the Herald of Andraste?" asks an earnest voice besides me. I turn and observe a frightened male elf in front of me.

 "Yes." I reply, “How can I-”

 "My wife!" he blurts and continues in rapid succession. "She gets like this when the weather is foul. She can’t catch her breath; it's like cobwebs in her lungs. I have a son in-"

 I grab him by the shoulders and gently shake him "You are going too fast. Slowly please."

 I let go and he claps his hands with such intensity it would turn any rock into a diamond. "I am terribly sorry," his speech was slightly subdued now, "My son knows how to make the appropriate potion for her. His name is Hyndel. I hear he has joined some cult down south through the hills. Please find him quickly before my wife dies."

 "I will do what I can."

 He nods, and gently grabs his wife's hand. Her eyes are closed but she grips his hand as well.

 I check on the other two men who appear unconscious. Minalis and Eral if I remember correctly.They are bandaged now. We arrived just in time to save them, however...

 This was my fault. Eral attempted to reason with the Templar and I hesitated, even after witnessing the chaos moments earlier. I believe- no- I wanted to believe that he could be reasoned with. That I could get through this with little to no bloodshed unless absolutely necessary. Eral was stabbed in the abdomen and Minalis took an arrow in the back, shielding Eral from a fatal blow.

 Varric shot the two men down as I fumbled for my arrow.

 I should have left my arrow in that bastard’s neck when I killed him. I was okay until I retrieved it from his lifeless body. I fully realized what I had done and I couldn't handle it. I puked, and then I hesitated since. Now these two men may die because of me.

No. I will not let that happen. I make sure no one is watching and I retrieve a small bottle of red potion from my coat. I give them half of the contents, gently lifting their heads so they don't choke on the liquid. I wish I could give them each a full bottle but I am already taking a huge risk. Cassandra and I have three each, while Solas and Varric have two. I know Cassandra is justified for having to fight in close quarters, but I need three because I am inexperienced. It takes at least a full day to brew these potions out here. Adan can get it done within 10 hours but he is in Haven.

 I just have to be more careful from here on.

 "That was very kind, Herald"

 I turn and find myself staring at Mother Giselle, smiling at me. "Do not be alarmed. I was here to check on the wounded but I see you have already done so. How are they?"

 I turn my head towards the Elven male, "His wife is dying. If I can get the potion from his son in time, I may be able to save her. The others will make it though. At least through today."

 "Such determination. The remaining clerics fear you, for they have not seen your actions like I have. Go to them. Convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to fear. They have only heard frightening tales of you. Give them something else to believe."

 I recall Chancellor Roderick's suspicion towards me and shake my head, "They want to execute me," I say plainly, feeling that alone explained everything.

 She responds with no hesitation. "You are no longer alone. They cannot imprison or attack you."

 I raise my brow.

 "Let me put it this way: You needn't convince them all. You just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them, and you will receive the time you need."

 I concede, "Thank you." I didn't really know what else to say.

 "I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help us... but I hope. Hope is what we need right now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You could build the inquisition into a force that will deliver us, or destroy us."

 I nod as I take all of that in and stay silent, unable to form any response to the revelation Mother Gisele bestowed on me.

 She gave a half smile. "I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much but I will do whatever I can."

With that, she exits the house and I stand still until I hear coughing behind me. The two men appear to be gaining consciousness though they are still unable to sit up.

 The chantry Mages tend to them. I ponder whether I should speak to them and give my blessings but decide against it and leave the house.

 Outside, the sun is still at a golden yellow. I can see Mother Giselle speaking with Cassandra and Corporal Vale in the middle of the hill. Everyone around me appears to be busy. My stomach begins rumbling as a reminder I haven't eaten since the day begun. The area is safe enough so I head south where the rams are rumored to be.

A few minutes in and my feet are hollering for me to stop as I soundlessly hike up the mountain, ignoring the pain. Even through my fatigue, I know better than to stop in the middle of the woods, despite being surrounded by trees. I deviate from the rock trail and step towards a large tree. Instinct takes over as I scale the tree and memories from my childhood rush through.

I was privileged growing up, but my father allowed me to go hunting with my uncle during my teen years. He taught me how to use a bow, climb trees, and navigate through tricky terrain with finesse. Uncle Brendan... I wonder what he is up to now. I haven't seen him since the rebellion began.

My stomach rumbles in a second wave of intensity and I hug the thick branch for comfort, my nostalgia interrupted. Below me, a ram trots freely through the trails, stopping to feed on small patches of grass. I can already taste it, and my mouth fills with saliva as I relish the thought. I load my arrow and aim for its head. It would be more accurate to aim for the body, but I’d rather kill it on the spot than go on a wild chase while it flees before succumbing to blood loss.

 Steady. The ram remains still. This should be an easy kill. Kill. Me, a murderer. My arrow flies and it strikes the dirt, inches from my fleeing and uninjured game.

 "Fuck!" I explode in a clipped tone. I can't let it get away. I prepare to climb down when a massive ball of yellow flames hurls mercilessly towards me. My hands immediately cover my face as my body recoils from the searing heat. I hear the scream of a frightened madman and I realize that it's me as I lose my footing. I crash to the ground, my back taking most of the impact. Pain travels through me.

 Foot steps approach me and I see a man aim his staff in my direction. He is only a few feet away from me. I shake my head violently and cough unintelligible sounds as I struggle to inhale enough air to speak or breathe.

 His staff flares up and my death feels imminent.

 "Wait!" I cry, desperate to say more but unable to due to the uncontrollable tremor in my body.

 A bolt slams through the mages skull just as he releases his fireball, his aim off balance and the flames pass inches above my head. I'm unable to cover my face and my eyes water from the stinging sensation of the heat.  Someone grabs me from behind and my body seizes before I realize they're helping me sit upright. Blurred figures approach me and I wipe my eyes to see clearly.

 I notice Varric first despite him being the shortest. He is flanked by refugees from the camp who are carrying large sacks in their hands.

 Varric looks pissed and appears to be on the verge of saying something until he looked at me. He sighs, and puts on a smirk instead.

 "You're no damsel in distress. The messenger gave me the wrong directions dammit," Varric said sounding convincingly disappointed.

 "Fuck you," I say with a slight chuckle. My back is killing me but I can breathe at least. It's something.

"Well. I guess I'll have to be your dwarf in shining armor," he reaches forward but I'm still wiping my eyes. He retracts his hand. His tone becomes serious, "There's no shame in crying."

 I begin to protest but the shock washes over me and I'm overwhelmed with the reality of what just transpired. My reckless behavior that guaranteed my death if Varric and the refugees were not here. The responsibilities placed on me that I did not ask for, nor do I feel prepared for. I have never been so afraid in my life, and yet, I have never been so happy to be someone worth saving.

 "Thank you," is all I manage to get out before my voice cracks and I begin to cry.

 

**Cassandra (Late evening)**

I must be going mad. I have searched this area at least four times but I have yet to find the Herald. The last time I saw him, he was speaking with Varric and Solas and then went to look for Mother Giselle after I instructed him to. I asked her but she said she had not seen him since she spoken to him in the medical ward. I then checked the camp where people have gathered to eat after some of the refugees returned with meat for everyone. He was not among them. I don't understand what could have happened.

 What was I doing earlier? Oh that's right, I spent some time training some of the refugees with basic combat drills. It is vital that they receive the proper training to defend themselves after we are gone. Solas informed me he had business to attend to, though he wouldn't specify. He agreed to return by dawn the next day. We plan to travel forth towards the Horse Master tomorrow. I wrote a letter to the advisors, requesting additional soldiers from Haven and to update them on our progress. I would have passed it along to a messenger but Leliana taught me how to summon her ravens. I made sure I was alone so no one could hear me hum the tune. They should receive the letter within a day if I did it correctly.

 It is too dangerous for him to be out there alone. This is usually the time where low life raiders rob the defenseless wanderers. They are not above killing. Maker’s breath.

I can hear echoes of laughter and vulgar language from the camp fire and I feel a pang of remorse for upsetting the recent rise in morale but the situation is urgent.

 "I need your attention please!" I exclaim, making my way into the center. Soft laughter and incomprehensible sounds slowly drift away as all eyes focus on me. I clear my throat.

"I want to first congratulate everyone on their hard work in holding this area." Applause. “Our soldiers will be dispatched to you in a matter of days. As well as escorts for those willing to travel to Haven. In the meantime we have urgent matters. Has anyone seen the Herald of Andraste?"

Silence. I continue, "I have searched this area for some time and I have yet to find him. Did anyone see him leave the camp?"

 "Maybe he went to gather more firewood," a young women spoke.

 "Or perhaps he's searching the perimeter as well," an elderly man said.

 I nod, "I would appreciate if we could gather a small search party.  It is urgent that we find him as soon as possible. Gather your weapons, there may be raiders out wandering. We will meet at the center statue for a head count before we depart."

 A symphony of groans, sighs, and anxious whispering carry on through the group. People begin to gather their weapons. I check my inventory and see my shield and sword are still attached. I am satisfied and begin walking towards the statue.

 "Excuse me, Lady Pentaghast?" a man stands in the doorway to my left and begins walking towards me, rubbing his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

 "No, the Herald is missing. We are forming a search party."

 His eyes become wide, "M-Missing? That can't be"

 "I'm afraid it is, and we may be too late," I hear a slight tremor in my voice. He is the only one we know with the power to close the rifts. Without him, Thedas will not survive. Andraste give me strength. This can not be over already.

 "My lady, I assure you, I saw the Herald on my way back to the camp, he was injured but-"

 I seize him by the collar, "He was injured? EXPLAIN!"

 He sputters, "He was attacked by a mage and fell out of a tree."

 "A Tree?!" My jaw drops, "Why was he in a tree?"

 "I don't know. All I know was that he was in trouble but Mr. Tethras killed the mage before it was too late. They traveled south towards another village."

 I release my grip on his collar. "Why are you just telling me now? You and your friends returned hours ago!" I hiss.

 He rubs his neck and looks down, "Well I was exhausted, and quite frankly you would be too if you stayed up all night in fear of when the Templars or Mages would attack this area again."

 I take a breath. "I'm sorry. It does sound like I'm blaming you for this."

 He looks at me. "Well it is partly my fault. We tried to convince the Herald to return here to rest. He took a pretty bad fall, but he was very insistent on reaching that village and appeared willing to go there alone. I believe there's a man at the village who has a potion for one of the sick members here. Mr. Tethras gave in and I protested but he told me there were dire consequences for touching the Herald without consent so I backed off."

 I roll my eyes. Of course Varric would say something like that. "That was still hours ago. They should have come back by now. We should search-”

 A chorus of applause and gasps erupt from the center. I rush over and see Varric supporting the Herald who is walking with a very noticeable limp. I can see a few cuts on his face, but I believe most of his grimacing is coming from his limping. He appears to be laughing with Varric.

 I should be happy but anger is brewing inside me and my hands are on my hips. "What is this?" I demand.

 The Herald abandon Varric's support and smiles, "We took a little field trip and became legends." I wait for an explanation but he turns towards an elven man and produces some sort of potion towards him. The man throws himself into an awkward embrace with Herald, aware of his wounds. The Herald hugs back and continues to laugh as if he's greeting a lost friend. He appears drunk. Wait, he is. Unbelievable.

 "I can explain," Varric offers, though he appears to be amused by this.

 "Believe me, this is a story that I expect to hear from you soon," I say, becoming conscious that my hands remain on my hips but too upset to remove them. "Herald, get some rest, I will talk to you in the morning."

 "Wait what?" the Herald slurs, sounding extremely exhausted. I am amazed he is still awake to begin with. "Shirley, you can't be serious. I can go to bed whenever I want. I am the HERALD OF ANDRASTE!" he puffs his chest.

 I glare at him. "I am serious, and don't call me Shirley."  A few people snicker and I realize there must have been something humorous to what I have said, but I find nothing humorous about this. The bystanders collectively escort the Herald away from the statue with little resistance as Varric and I stare at one another.

 He takes a deep breath "Okay, let me have it.”

 "What were you thinking letting him drink like that?”

 "Look, he needed this." My eyes narrow and he pushes his hands in front of him so I allow him to continue. "You already know about the potion, but we also encountered a rift that the villagers worshiped. We closed it and they offered us their gratitude. It seemed rude to reject. I admit, I may have let him go too far, but it's not a big deal.”

 I grunt, "No big deal?! What if this sick woman died while you two were out drinking? Do you know how that would make the Inquisition look?"

 His smirk is gone. "Right now, I think you should be less concerned about the Inquisition, and more about the man chosen to be the symbol of it."

 "What is that supposed to mean?" I am trying hard to control my temper.

 "Are you blind, Seeker? Maxwell is overwhelmed. Today was the first time he has killed another human being. He has been mulling about it all day."

 "This is hard on all of us, Varric," I snap, unable to control my temper any longer. "There is a time and place to let your guard down and this was not the time. I need you to take this seriously, especially with the Herald's life at stake!"

 He looks at me as if I am a child "Seriously? Your biggest mistake was sending him out here without any proper training and just expecting him to get the hang of it. He is going to get killed at the rate we're going." He doesn't hide his disgust for me. "And by the way, Seeker, only one of us was around to save him today." He walks away without a backwards glance.

 I was preparing a search party for the Herald and Varric, and now I am being accused of being a selfish madwoman. The unfairness of it all fill me with rage. I, too, am doing the best I can under the circumstances. We were at a holy war, and then the breach appeared which threatened to destroy the world. Everything seemed hopeless until the Herald arrived, although the evidence of him being guilty appeared damning at the time. I do not know if the Herald was truly blessed by the Maker, but I believe that he appeared when we needed him the most. There is hope for all of us now, and we need that to strengthen. We need allies, and resources. We need to prove that we're competent and worthy for people to join our cause. Refugees need to believe in our ability to take them in when they have nowhere else to go. Everyone is watching to see what we'll do next. Varric cannot deny that.

 I am exhausted but I will stay up with the volunteers and teach them the importance of night patrol to prevent surprises attack in the future. Despite my faults, I am fully committed to the Inquisition. I will not apologize for that.

 

**The next day.**

 

**Josephine Montilyet (Haven)**

 

_Dear Lady Montilyet:_

_It is true. Distant relations of the House Trevelyan are claiming "close friendship with the Herald of Andraste." A boast is one matter, but the boundaries of tact and decency appear to be invisible to these mountebanks._

_During a ball in the south quarter, I witnessed a cousin five times remove from Lord Trevelyan threaten to have the Inquisition fight his rival! He quickly left the party after I made my connections to the Inquisition clear, but the problem stands. We must deal with the Herald's relatives taking his name in vain._

_Lady Buttlefort._

 

I have other letters to attend to but I must make haste. I place it on top of the clipboard and proceed towards the exit.

 "Minaeve," I direct my attention towards the former Dalish Elf, now Elven Mage Scholar. "I have a meeting in the War Room. If you can please direct any visitors to the waiting room outside, I shouldn't be long."

 She nods with a slight smile and I match hers as I leave the room. It is a shame she cannot freely roam Haven due to the fear of Mages during these trying times. Perhaps in time, people will become more open with mages and elves.

 I hear muffled voices on the outside of the war room and I can tell Leliana and Cullen are already present, in another debate of course.

 "Are you seriously suggesting we use our resources to assist that raving lunatic?" Cullen asks, his attention on Leliana.

 "Not precisely," Leliana replies coolly, "Lord Kildarn is a nuisance,  However, we could take advantage of his raving and do what he asks now, and then have him in our debt."

 He politely refuse and they continue their debate, respectfully of course. We all have our roles within the Inquisition. Commander Cullen serves as the tactical advisor. He is an intelligent and cautious man. I am grateful that he is in charge of our standing army, with small exceptions when he believes brute force solves everything. Sister Leliana is our spymaster, and leads the clandestine division responsible for espionage and assassination. We moved through similar circles in Orlais. I believe we met in Val Royeaux, she was quite accomplished in the "game" by then. The game is best described as a slow duel of influence among the Noble and powerful of Orlais.

 I play in a similar fashion as Ambassador of the Inquisition, but I focus on influence among a smoother path. I originally worked as an Ambassador in the royal courts of Thedas, becoming familiar with Orlesian politics. We will need the backing of Thedas most influential figures in order to restore the Inquisition to it's former glory.

 I clear my throat "In the meantime, I believe we have more pressing matters to worry about." I pass the note by Lord Buttlefort to Leliana who then passes it to Cullen.

 "This is an outrage," Cullen spits, his eyes wide. "The Inquisition isn't a name to throw around lightly. We should openly denounce these people."

 Leliana and I shrug in unison. "This sort of thing is inevitable," I begin, as Cullen hands me back the letter. "We can promise them future favors to persuade them to be less bold."

 "Or," Leliana begins, her words trailing. Cullen and I raise a brow. "We don't have to tip our hand to voice our displeasure. I am not saying we should send assassins but," a small grin stretches across her face, "perhaps the rumor." Cullen and I shake our heads in disapproval.

 "How swift should our response be?" Cullen asks. "This concerns the Herald, we should give him time to respond."

 "I received word from Cassandra," Leliana says. "They successfully pushed the Templars and the Mages away from Mother Giselle's resting area. They plan to make contact with Horse Master Dennet today.

 "If they are successful, they could limit their travel time to a little under three days."

 A sudden knock on the door startles us. "Yes?" I call out.

 The door slightly opens and Minaeve sticks her head in, "I am terribly sorry, but there is a man outside requesting an audience with Commander Cullen. He says he is part of a mercenary crew willing to offer aid to the Inquisition."

 "Excuse me," Cullen politely excuses himself from the room.

Leliana laughs, "Remarkable timing. I was about to add that Cassandra requested additional soldiers from him."

 I smile, "I would prefer that his head didn't explode. Any news on how the Herald is faring?"

 "He seems to be okay according to Cassandra but I should be hearing from my scouts in a few days. Speaking of which, something interesting came to my attention yesterday."

 "Go on."

 "There have been sightings of a man dressed in full Grey Warden regalia last seen traveling through the Hinterlands."

 My jaw drops, "Really?" She nods. "How can that be?"

 "I don't know but I definitely want a word with him. He goes by the name of Blackwall. I will attempt to contact Cassandra again with my ravens. We should give the Herald an opportunity to decide what to do about his distant relatives. I will pass that letter along as well."

We depart the War Table, and I'm aware we never settled on the appropriate action concerning Lord Kildarn. I return to my room and see that no visitors await me. Good thing. I have much work to do.


	3. To Be Determined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the long delays. Hopefully this extra long chapter will make it up for you. Once against, thank you Rachel for being the fresh eyes to my work and taking time to edit everything. 
> 
> I assume most people reading this played DAI but I included an extra scene that involves the events of DA2 in Varric's flashback. If you never played DA2, here are some things to help with the story. 
> 
> *The Hanged man* is a local Tavern that Varric, and Hawke frequented in Kirkwall.
> 
> *Blondie* is an affectionate nickname that Varric uses to refer to Anders. A mage companion in DA2.
> 
> With that said, please enjoy this chapter. I really hope you enjoy it =D

**Dragon 9:41, Approaching Elven Ruins (Solas POV)**

My path through the blanket of large trees ends and I am forced to continue out in the open. It took some convincing before Cassandra permitted me to go off on my own again. I had to remind her that I volunteered to help and this research is essential to understanding the veil. It helped to emphasize the Herald was in no shape to fight and someone would need to stand by as he recovered. Cassandra's distrust for Varric is counter productive overall, but useful in those regards.

 I hear fighting ahead, though I can't quite pinpoint where. I gamble that it's close to the ruins. I take my steps with caution to avoid crushing the gravel when possible as the screams intensify. I arrive in time to witness a mage slain a few yards away with three soldiers needlessly mutilating the already fallen mage. Though I'd only be guessing, he didn't appear to have a staff and no evidence of recent magic was observed. It's possible that he was not a member of the rebel mages. An innocent life, cut down by these jack booted thugs. My hands are curled hard enough to rival steel, but I rest my grip as fresh blood coats my fingers. My hand can certainly heal faster than these lost souls though.

 Gravel crunches behind me. I turn and lock eyes with a great bear, who has no doubt, tracked me by the scent of my blood. The bloodlust in its eyes are unmistakable but misguided. I allow the creature within striking distance, before raising my bloody hand and immobilizing the creature with a simple disorientating spell, being careful to not allow my blood to influence the magic. I lock eyes with the creature and turn my attention towards the soldiers. The bear's gaze follows mine, and he breaks out into a wild sprint towards the soldiers who attempt to run. I give them a few minutes before they're killed. The entrance to the ruins is now free of hostiles.

 "You can come out now Varric." I call out, facing the temple entrance, though I know he's behind me.

 He snickers, "Way to play it cool to the end Chuckles. You keep that up and you might get a larger chapter in my tale."

 "Why are you here Varric? I thought you intended to check out Fort Connor."

 "Well, unlike you, I humbly accepted my horse. I was there a few hours ago, it's a bit more guarded than I would like it to be."

 "I see. Where is your horse now?"

 "Shambaya is Wandering the greatness we call the Hinterlands of course." I give him a quizzical look and he shrugs, "She looks like a Shambaya and she has a better chance roaming freely than being chained to a tree. She knows her way back to the farm, if more than an hour passes."

"I assume you'll be accompanying me inside the temple then?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

We reach the entrance of the ruins and I remove the stones that block our path.

 "I'm rather impressed flat ear," a smooth voice below me sings. I turn and notice Varric already has his crossbow aimed at a young female dalish elf. She flashes a smile in response. "I am no danger to you. My name is Mihras. I too am interested in these ruins. Perhaps we can all work together?"

 "I see no harm in that," I reply to which Varric rolls his eyes. I gesture towards the entrance. "After you." She walks past and Varric follows after her, the crossbow slightly tilted upwards.

The soft moans silence the questions I have for her.

 I see no traces of recent dirt, soot, or blood on either the walls or the floors. The skeletal remains were probably the last living beings to enter this area. There's a good chance I'll be able to find what i'm looking for.

 “Shit,” Varric mutters ahead of me, tossing his now unlit torch to the ground, “The damned thing went out.”

 I squint at the torch on the wall. Conveniently placed. The markings are unmistakable. I focus my energy onto the torch and green sparks flicker, igniting into a beautiful glow. Veil fire. I've never seen it up close before. Only mages can use this type of power, although anyone can carry it after. It burns without the need for wood or oil. Wonderful. Even if there were travelers, they might not know about the artifact. I gesture the torch for Mihras to hold. She scoffs.

 “You expect me to leave myself defenseless?” She asks.

 “If it's that much trouble, I'll hold the torch. Just don't assume I'm aiming it towards your ass.” Varric replies.

She rolls her eyes but doesn't reply. “Very well, ill carry it myself,” I say, and proceed forward. The flames are strong enough to see a few feet ahead. The demon's screeches are the loudest. We're not that far. “They will be able to smell my blood. I suggest you be prepared.”

I light an unlit torch on the left wall and notice a few demons at the bottom of the rocky steps heading towards us.

“Time to see what you're made of.“ Varric gestured, towards Mihras, and the two engage the demons as I light another torch on the far right wall. The child has a strong aptitude to manifest lightening but her barriers are weak. Though my hands are full, I manage to engulf them both with a spell of enchantment for protection. The demons are defeated before I make it down the steps.

“Up ahead,” I say. The elven artifact lies before us. I could barely hear Varric's and Mihras’ banter as I step forward and activate the artifact.

“Looks like I found something useful as well.” Mihras says, picking up an amulet from the floor. I know what it is. “May peace be with you strangers.” I only nod, and turn to leave with Varric.

 “So are we just going to ignore the whole, 'letting the elf take the amulet to make herself stronger' situation?” Varric asked as we reached the surface.

 “She needs it more. Besides, the artifact was more important. With it activated, it will strengthen the hold on the veil and make it harder for rifts to appear in the area. That should make it easier for the Herald.“

 “Fair enough.” Varric blows out a loud whistle and hears a neigh in response. Up ahead where I first saw Varric to be exact. "It's a good thing we didn't dawdle. Now it's time for the fun part. Killing uncooperative bandits."

................................................

**(Outside Fort Connor)**

It took only an hour before we arrived just at the hill, a few yards away from Fort Connor. History says it was first constructed by a young Arl Eamon after the Orleasians were driven away from Fereldan. It was named in memory of his father who died at the battle of west hill. It was a crucial defense against the darkspawn during the fifth blight. The once impenetrable Fort is now in shambles.  A few of the side walls are destroyed, creating multiple entry points. It seems to be a few more wars away from becoming a ruin. The higher levels are still preserved and most of it still seems sturdy.  I can see why Varric wants to claim this for the Inquisition.

A few Inquisition soldiers greet Varric and give me an ambiguous nod as we approach them and dismount from the horse. Varric failed to tell me these soldiers would be here.

"What's the news?" Varric asks.

A lanky man in basic armor steps forward and removes his helmet, addressing both of us warmly. One of the refugees we had rescued days before. His courtesy towards me now makes sense. "The same as before I'm afraid. The Templars are still holed up within the Fort. I spotted a few archers patrolling the perimeter. They all appear to be heavily armored. Better compared to those at the crossroads."

"That won't be a problem now that we have magic," Varric responds.

"Maker preserve me! I'm not fightin’ wit him on my side!" A man pushes forward to address us. I remember him from Haven, inside the Tavern.

Varric shrugs "Oh well. Suit yourself." He addresses the crowd, "Good news everyone, your chances of being killed just decreased dramatically." The crowd looks on confused, including myself and the belligerent bigot.

The man narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Where should I begin? We may have the advantage of the mage but these templars are still dangerous and well armed. Obviously, chuckles here," he points towards me, "Will not be able to protect everyone at once. Since you volunteered, he will no longer have to worry about you, which is better for everyone… except for you."

"Don't ya dare try to intimidate me!" Spittle flew out of his mouth with each word, "I only have to answer to Cullen or that weak bitch ya call the 'Herald!'" he storms away but slows to a walk and then stops.

"Finally figured out the math, genius? Your chances of living through today are much better here than heading back to camp where the raiders have been roaming. Or do you think you can stand against them alone?”

"I have no qualms with you," I say, "We're all in this together. I'll help you if you'll allow me." He glares at me, though his face is now full of embarrassment instead of disgust. He lowers his head and joins the other 5 soldiers.

Satisfied, Varric takes one of the archers with him and creeps towards the front entrance. He aims his grappling hook and shoots it towards the top wall. He and the archer slowly scale the wall and gain cover. They disappear for a moment but peer over to tell us the two archers were dead. I follow the remaining warriors through the front entrance. They all appear nervous and somewhat hesitant. If there were any words of encouragement, it should've been said earlier. They'll have to manage.

The archers must not have died silently because the Templars left the safety of their stronghold and began rushing towards us. I cast a spell of enchantment barrier over the warriors, and then strike the first enemy with lightning, but it only slows him down slightly thanks to his oversize shield. I then conjured an ice wall, temporarily blocking the advancing templars.

"Get the mage!" A man bellows. I wave my staff, preparing a thunderstorm when suddenly I'm struck with an indescribable force that saps my magic. I almost forgot that templars can dispel magic. They must have lyrium on them.  "What are you guys waiting for?" I ask to the immobilized men besides me. "I need time to gain my mana back. Don't let them get close to me." I stumble backwards as they advance.

One of our soldiers falls down after an arrow strikes his shoulder. I turn in the direction and see an archer at the entrance of the stronghold. Varric fires a bolt but the archer already dove for cover. I assume Varric will keep him from leaving cover. The wall shatters and the remaining three men attempt their assault but they are easily outmatched. They seem to just be fighting for time at this point. I reach into my cloak and ingest a small bottle of lyrium. It's my only option at this point. I feel my mana return to me and aim my staff at the templar with the big shield. My ice wave freezes his armor over and he can no longer move, another lightning strike and he shatters into pieces. I then cast an enhancement spell on our soldiers, renewing their strength. They overpower the templars at the same time Varric incapacitates the archer.

I turn my attention towards the down soldier. "Don't move!" I examine, his shoulder and see a deep flesh wound. "Do you feel nauseated? Dizzy?” He takes off his helmet and shakes his head no, but I'm still focused on his arm. "Good. That means you aren't poisoned." I disinfect the wound and wrap it with a loose cloth.  "There should be some elfroot back at the camp. You can have that with tea to increase the healing." Despite my attempts, blood soaked the loose cloth. I place my hand on his shoulder and transfer some energy onto him. "That will numb the pain for now." I make eye contact and notice it was the belligerent man from before. The irony.

He opens his mouth to say something but quickly shuts it and gives me a nod. I get up and meet Varric near the stronghold.

"That went as well as I expected," Varric said.

 "Agreed," I replied and we walk inside, descending the stairs. The room is dark with the exception of two small fireplaces on the left and right side. A few sleeping bags are scattered around the floor, along with some boxes. The area reeks.

"Well it looks like a piece of shit, but we can-" Varric goes silent. I look at him, expecting him to finish but his eyes are fixated ahead. I look forward and notice the red lyrium. His eyes are determined, almost vengeful in a way, and he fires an incendiary bolt that explodes on impact, obliterating the crystals. "Let's get Mother Giselle, and return to Haven."

I watch him walk away without a word, not even a snarky comment. I shouldn't be surprised though. I heard about the tales of the champion. No good came from red lyrium. It must be a reminder of what Varric endured in those times.

 

**10 years previously**

**Dragon 9:31, Deep Roads (Varric's POV)**

"Bartrand!" I bellow, reducing myself to a madman, fists pounding against the door. "Bartrand!"

 Distantly, I recall the tales I've written where someone has been betrayed and they're reacting exactly the way I am. The villain would be donning a smug grin with a sprinkle of maniacal laughter. Bartand, screwing over his own brother for a lousy idol, what a cliche.  I can picture my brother's smiling face and I want nothing more than to fire a bolt through his backstabbing skull, right between the eyes. I'm sorry mother, but I swear I will kill that son of a bitch.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and i'm gently pulled away from the door. I don't need to look up to know it's Hawke offering me his words of encouragement, but I can barely hear him.

The darkspawn have been our main concern during this expedition. Not being trapped in an underground tunnel system built by my people. Perhaps I should've been more interested about Orzammar. It can't end here.

"There seems to be a way out over here!" Blondie shouts from upstairs. I walk up the dusty steps and see Bethany and Anders fiddling with the lock.

"Okay, okay, let's leave this to the professionals," I say, making use of my dwarven fingers to unlock the door, but stop short as a faint moaning becomes audible.

"Well, it looks like we only have to worry about being killed by the darkspawn now. Fantastic," Hawke snorts.

"You were always the optimist," I counter, feeling a bit better. I lean forward to open the door as Hawke positions himself on the left side with his longsword drawn. Blondie casts an enchantment spell on Hawke and distances himself from the door, and Bethany just stands next to me looking pretty.

I crack the door a bit and jump back as it's slammed open. It just had to be a fire demon rushing towards me. Bethany deflects its attack with a barrier. Hawke swings his weapon like a tornado and slices the creature in half. Show off. I sink three bolts to an advancing shade floating through the door, letting it disintegrate. Two can play that game.

No one else comes through the door and we proceed further. The area slowly transcends from a stony temple to a dark and quite odd cave. I tighten my grip on Bianca as the passage gets darker and gesture for everyone to remain quiet. I make what I believe to be a good attempt at describing spiders overhead, and Hawke wraps his arms around his sister's and nudges her forward.

"Maker's breath!" she hissed, "What big brother forces his little sister to protect him from the spiders?”

"I love you Bethany," Hawke sings.

"Baby," she whispers. There's little talking after that.

Our attempts at stealth goes in vain once we reach the end of the hallway that's illuminated. We're forced to kill spiders, demons, and Darkspawn… and more demons… and more Darkspawn. Will it ever end?

"Will it ever end?!" Hawke groans, as he slays another shade.

I chuckle, shooting a bolt into the skull of another shade advancing towards Bethany. "I didn't realize I had an echo."

"What?"

I shoot another Shade down. "Keep it up, Hawke!"

"Keep what up?"

And Bianca takes down another demon. "Another one for me! How many have you got, Hawke?!"

 He looks around at all the fallen creatures and mocks a frown. "You cheated."

 "All's fair in love, war, and not buying rounds at the hanged man." I shoot him a wink and he rolls his eyes.

 "Should we pretend that our body count is not twice as much as theirs combined?" Blondie says to Bethany, in his lousy attempt at a whisper.

 "Shut up Blondie," Hawke and I say simultaneously. We move forward as I continue some more playful banter.

 "Enough!" a voice booms out of nowhere. Before I can blink, the rocks in the room form together into a twisted glowing creature. "You have proven your mettle. I would not see these creatures harmed without need."

 "I'd say being attacked on sight gives us plenty of need!" Hawke responds.

 "They will not assault you further. Not without my permission.”

 "What are these things?" I cut in, confused. " They seem like rock wraiths, but..."

 "They hunger!" the demon booms again, clearly lacking etiquette. "The profane have lingered in this place for ages beyond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know."

 "The lyrium," Bethany says, as if she's understood something. "That's what sustains them.”

 "I am not what they are. I am a visitor. I sense what you desire. You seek to leave this place, but you will need my aid to do so."

 "We're not dealing with a Demon," Hawke hisses.

 "Most unwise." The creature splits into sharp daggers, and hurls itself towards us. Bethany and Anders bring up a barrier at the same time, but the pressure is too great and it shatters, knocking all of us to the floor. Demons surround us and begin to advance towards us. I reach for Bianca and realize she’s gone, somewhere among the shadows. I also realize my shooting hand was crushed from the rock. I can't shoot.

 A wall of ice rises in front of me, slowing down half of the creatures and I'm yanked to my feet by Blondie, but I still can't find Bianca. Hawke and Bethany tend to the advancing shades on the other side of the ice wall as Blondie tends to my hand. It feels numb but I can wiggle my fingers a bit.

 "Stay behind me!" he demands, blasting two advancing demons.

 "They need backup?" I wheeze, choking on the clouds of debris filling this area as Blondie takes out the remaining demons.

 "Move away from the wall you two!" Blondie yells before his face starts to glow. Goodbye Anders, hello Justice.

 "We will not be defeated by such a weak abomination," his alter ego states, hurling a massive blast into the wall, smashing it completely.

 The ice doesn't hit the floor, but instead gathers towards Bethany before being unleashed like needles, piercing the demon. It goes down in a loud thud.

 Blondie returns to his normal self, as normal as he can be at least, and begins tending to the Hawke siblings. I find Bianca under a  block of ice and wedge it out with my good hand. We take a moment to gather ourselves and continue walking in silence.

 I'm the first one to break it. "The rock wraiths are supposed to be Dwarven legends. They're not supposed to be real!"

 "Looked pretty real to me," Hawke retorted, but he doesn't have to tell me twice. The slight throbbing in my hand is all the proof I need. Everyone else appears fine though. Hawke has a few cuts, Bethany seems less injured but has grown serious suddenly. She's hardly speaking. Maybe it's the shock of it all. That was pretty quick thinking by her. It's a good thing Hawke brought her with us, despite his mother's wishes.

 My eyes lock on a key nestled under the creature. "Holy shit. Look at what it's been guarding." I approach the key and lift it with my injured hand, ignoring the pain. It doesn't take us long to find a room with enough fortune to make us all rich. We all laugh and cheer, despite having a five day trek ahead of us.

................................................

It took awhile, but we're back where we started before my lovely brother attempted to lock us in to rot. Little does he know, his last days are passing by. He better enjoy histime at the Blooming Rose while he still can.

"Think we can take a break? I feel... wrong." Bethany says, with a slight quiver.

"We can set up camp if you'd like," Hawke responds.

I chuckle, "I wager it was those deep mushrooms we found." I turn to see if Bethany would agree with me, instead I saw her collapse onto the floor. We quickly surround her. Hawke, reaching out to touch her but hesitating out of fear of making it worse.

Blondie lightly pats Hawke's shoulder and shakes his head sympathetically. "It's the blight. I can sense it."

"I'm as good as dead now. It's only a matter of time," Bethany croaks.

"Stop that talk!" Hawke snaps, but there's no venom in his voice. I say nothing because I know, and Hawke has to know, there's no way we can get her to the surface in time.

 "There may be something we can do," Blondie cut in. "The Grey Wardens were preparing their own expedition into the roads. If they're here, I know where to find them. However, there is a-"

 "Take me to them," Hawke demands, supporting Bethany on his shoulder. "Now." I have never seen him this serious before. Neither has Anders because he stops short of elaborating on the cons of this plan and we proceed silently, with the exception of Hawke's desperately quiet pleas for Bethany to hang on.

 We hear fighting ahead after a few minutes of walking. Blondie and I rush ahead, and find some men fighting with darkspawn. My hand is healed enough to handle Bianca smoothly and I take two of them down as Blondie blasts the remaining one. Blondie then begins to converse with the men, suggesting that we found the Grey Wardens. Thank the Maker.

The man doesn't look happy though and scowls towards Hawke as he arrives shortly after, dragging Bethany. "You mean the girl as a recruit? Of course you do." He looks at Hawke. "I'm sorry. I'm sure this comes as no comfort to you, but we do not recruit Grey Wardens out of pity. It is no kindness."

Hawke grounds his teeth. "You take her or I will kill you."

"He doesn't mean that!" Blondie cuts in. "She is worth your time though. With the blight over, you don't necessarily have Grey Wardens lined up anyways. Stroud, please."

"This is no simple thing Anders. This may be just as much a death sentence as the sickness, and you know it." He looks at Hawke, and his stoic demeanor breaks. I look at Hawke, and I too can see the desperation. Stroud takes a breath. "If the girl comes, she comes now, and you may not see her again. Becoming a Grey Warden is not a cure. It is a calling."

"Are you sure?" Bethany croaks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you Bethany. If this is the only way for you to live, then it has to be done. I love you okay?" He kisses her forehead and then they are separated as Stroud and his men guide her away. Hawke just stands there, immobilized. I know he lost his brother a year ago. Now he's lost his sister, too. Hawke doesn't speak another word during the journey back to Kirkwall.

 

**Present Year**

**Dragon 9:41 Redcliffe Farms Camp (Maxwell POV)**

The grass below me tickles my cheeks. Why am I lying on the grass? I haven’t the slightest clue but it feels peaceful. I can spend the day here; I just need to get these clothes off to feel more comfortable.

"Rise Herald. We are not finished yet." The voice sounds somewhat feminine. Cassandra?

I turn on my back with more effort than I should and open my eyes. The sun is too bright and my vision is blurry. I'm sweating and my head feels like it's been stabbed by a 1000 small needles.

"You can move faster than that." Her words are followed up with a blow to my abdomen. I instinctively roll out of panic, and clumsily rise to my feet, ignoring the dull ache in my back. I begin running away from Cassandra.

My efforts come to an end, and I feel a force push me back towards Cassandra, who has obviously gone mad. I turn to the culprit and notice I'm surrounded by inquisition soldiers. Cassandra and I are in the middle. The soldiers are cheering. Before I can say anything, Cassandra lunges at me again, swiping with a large tree branch. I jump back and the branch barely misses me.

"Good, you are finally learning to dodge. AGAIN!" She strikes overhead towards my skull and I step back again, but I'm unprepared as Cassandra closes the distance between us and kicks me hard in the chest. I land on my back but manage to not grunt in pain. I refuse to give these soldiers any more pleasure since they appear to be laughing at me. I roll out of her way and pick up two branches the size of dual daggers.

I pivot towards the right, attempting to circle her but she mirrors my movements. She also seems undisturbed by my feints. I admit, I'm not good at close combat. If it's a fight she wants... I slash diagonally with my right branch, but she sidesteps. The tip of her branch connects with my right forearm and my arms go into shock. I look at my fingers that have gone numb, distantly aware that I've let my guard down again. Cassandra is quick to inform me as I feel another blow on my left forearm. My hands feel so numb. My grip gives out on me and I drop the weapons.

"You must never stop moving during battle. The enemy will not stop." Another kick and I fall onto my back. She taps me in the ribs and my face with the stick. "Now you are dead. I have killed you ten times already."

"I don't remember the other nine times," I say through gritted teeth.

"Forgive me, I was a little overzealous. I may have given you a concussion. Take some rest. You need to recover."

She sure doesn't sound apologetic. Well I'll show her! Her back is turned and I struggle to stand. I rush towards her with a burst of energy. She turns around but is unable to stop me as I tackle her and land on top, pinning her right hand down with my left arm. I raise my hand and attempt to give her a light slap on the head, but it's cut short as I feel a crushing blow in my scrotum. It's too much and I lose all control. Before I know it, I'm turned over and she's on top. The stick held against my neck.

"You die again," she says flatly. I nod my head. She stands over me and smiles a bit. "That was good, but you have to follow up to maintain the advantage. " She walks away, as I lay curled in a ball.

I wave off all attempts of assistance from the soldiers and remain in the grass. Everything hurts, and she's confiscated my potions. I still don't understand why and I don't care at this point. I just keep praying to the Maker, if there really is one, that I'll be able to have kids after this.

I succumb to my weariness and drift off to sleep.

................................

The aroma of cooked meat rouses me from slumber. My head is no longer pounding though my back still hurts.

I take in the stars and the purple sky above me. There's no wind blowing, just a small chill but I am used to this by now.

Nearly everyone is gathered in front of the fireplace trading food and war stories judging by the laughter. People trade glances at me and continue laughing. Probably about how Cassandra has been kicking my ass everyday since we got here. I don't have the nerve to face them, especially without Varric or Solas around to talk with.

We all reached the farm together and set up camp the following morning after my near death experience. We spent the full day tracking down the wolves and marking the areas needed to create the watchtowers to hold our end of the bargain with the Horsemaster. Solas and Varric then said they had personal affairs to take care of and that they'd see us back in Haven. I noticed that Varric and Cassandra barely spoke at all.

Varric was kind enough to teach me how to cloak myself for brief periods of time. I have been complimented on my shooting ability. I can shoot from very long distances so it's not like I'm useless in battle. I am just not skilled in close quarters combat. At least not like Cassandra.

Cassandra approaches me with two bowls in her hand, and places one in front of me. It looks like Stew, though I can't tell the meat.

"Thank you," I nod; she nods back but she is still standing, shuffling her weight on the leg behind her. "What is it?"

"Am I allowed to sit here? I don't want to disturb you."

"Of course! Please." I gesture towards the floor in front of me. She nods and sits in front of me. I take a small sip from the bowl. It's delicious.

"We received word that the watchtowers have been completed. Dennet will accompany us back to Haven tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Okay."

An uncomfortable silence stretches between us. I take a few bites of the salty meat and I can only identify a bit of ram and druffalo. Very good regardless. I wonder who cooked it. I eat with a bit more gusto, no longer minding the silence.

"Do you like it?" she asks.

"It was very good," I mumble. It’s hard to talk with a mouthful of meat. "Who cooked it?"

"I did."

I pause mid chew. "Really?" I swallow and set my bowl down. "Where did you learn?"

"Not important," she says flatly, but she looks to be a little red. Is she blushing? Yes! She is blushing.

I chuckle, "Okay, I wont pry. Thank you for sitting with me." I flash her a genuine smile that gets returned.

"Thank you." She sets her bowl down and face me. "It occurs to me I don't actually know much about you."

"What do you want to know?"

"I'm... not sure. Where are you from?"

"I was born in Ostwick. Most of my family are from there."

"The Trevelyans is it not? A large clan with a rather clever coat of arms. Tell me, do you consider the Free Marches your home? Are you eager to go back?"

I take a moment to reflect. To be honest, there's nowhere I'd rather be than within the Free Marches. I don't care that people consider us to be barbarians, at least we're free to tend to our respective cities as we choose. We may not have a strong central government but we unite when it counts. At least where Ostwick is concerned. Kirkwall has had its issues for the past few years. I thought of visiting once to see a relative who served in the Chantry there before that lunatic apostate destroyed it. Thank the maker she fell ill the night before. She's now in Ostwick. I dreamt about waking up in my room back in Ostwick, giddy that this was all a dream. My only mission would be to absolve myself from the inevitable dread of serving the Chantry myself, mindlessly reciting their endless chants. My father would probably disown me if he knew how I really felt.

"Herald?" I blink and find Cassandra staring at me. I realize I'm staring back with my mouth hanging open.

"I'm sorry. I zoned out for a moment. If I'm being honest, I'd be home now if I had the choice."

She nods.  "I figured. I wanted to apologize for how I treated you up to now. You are… different from what I expected."

"Is that a good thing?" I ask earnestly.

"Yes and no. When we first met, you seemed to be a natural in battle dealing with the demons, but I also saw how uncomfortable you were with humans. Knowing this, I can no longer believe that you were involved in the attack at the conclave. However," She gives me a pitying stare, "There are people who still believe you are guilty, who will attempt to assassinate you in the hopes of solving this dilemma. We cannot always protect you. You must stay vigilante.

"I'm trying." is the best I can muster.

"Remember what you told me: 'You shall not be defenseless. You're of no use to us dead.'" Her face twists into a small grin.

I smile too, realizing the irony in those words. I argued with Cassandra that I was capable of defending myself and that she needed my assistance when we tried to close that first rift. Until proven otherwise, I'm the only one capable of closing these rifts. People will want to persecute me without knowing that they need me and I basically have to accept it. It's maddening, but hysterical. "Will it get any easier?"

Her eyes bore into me. "It's best not to dwell on such things. There will be times where bloodshed can be avoided with diplomacy, but there is no dishonor in fighting for a cause greater than yourself." She reaches over and pats me on the shoulder. "I'm going to sit by the fire. Join us if you like."

I sit here for some time. I discreetly remove a piece of paper from the inner lining of my coat. I almost forgot I had it. Maybe I really did get a concussion.

_Your Worship,_

_Thank you again for your swift response. I apologize for the inconvenience of such matters while scouting the Hinterlands. The official report will be here for your viewing, but you'll be pleased to know your relatives have avoided invoking your name since Leliana spread the rumors of Assassins in the midst. Solas and Varric arrived with Mother Giselle and are awaiting your return. They have personal matters they wish to discuss with you. Scout reports concerning the Grey Warden are still inconclusive. There is a lot more, but it is best that we speak in person._

_Sincerely Lady Montilyet_

_P.S I look forward to speaking to you as well._

I skim through most of the letter. I have a theory which cousin that is. He was always a jerk to me so I enjoyed scaring him a bit. I'm sure he's praying to Andraste every night to protect him from the Assassins. HA! I look forward to being back in Haven for some well needed R&R. Hopefully I'll get to speak to Josephine a bit more. She seems nice.

 

**Dragon 9:41 Haven War Room(Cassandra POV)**

The three days of traveling on foot and horseback pale in comparison to this past hour. The five of us surround the wooden table, a large map of Thedas lay spread across. The three advisors continue their debate. I join in when possible, but the Herald remains on the sidelines.

"Having the Herald address the Clerics is not a terrible idea" Josephine advises

"You can't be serious," Cullen scoffs.

Josephine fixes him with a patronizing glare "Mother Giselle isn't wrong; at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they're united in opinion."

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana asked. I was thinking the same thing but she beat me to it. It is very clear that some people still harbor resentment towards the Herald.”

Josephine smiles and nods towards the Herald, "Let's ask him." We all turn our attention to the Herald.

His eyes widen, "Umm. I, ah... " He clears his throat though I doubt he really needed to cough. "Can you clarify what you mean?"

All of us, except the Herald and Cullen roll our eyes, while Cullen tries to mask his laughter. Men.

"I was asking," Josephine began, "How do you feel about addressing the Clerics of the Chantry?" she manages to say without any hint of annoyance. I'm not sure if she was but I wouldn't blame her. This is serious.

"Oh. Well I guess it couldn't hurt, but will it really solve any problems?"

"Yes will it?" Cullen cuts in, "It just lends credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says!" he insists.

This is getting us nowhere. I step forward, speaking up for the first time in minutes. "I will go with him." I face Leliana. "Mother Giselle said she could provide us with names? Use them."

"But why?" Leliana protests, "This is nothing but A-"

"What choice do we have Leliana?" I interrupt. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach." I face all three advisors now. "Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."

"I estimate a little over a month before we have to travel to Orlais. Josephine and I will reach out to our contacts."

Everyone nods in agreement and the room grows silent.

The Herald breaks the silence with one loud clap, an unusually cheery expression on his face. "Well, if that's all, I'll leave you all to your duties. Good work everyone." He actually tries to leave. I deliberately cough loud enough for him to hear and he pauses by the doorknob. "There's something more urgent, isn't there?" he faces us again, the smile gone, arms crossed. "I should've known."

We all turn to Cullen since this was his news to give. He appears to be uncomfortable, but straightens at attention. "I was greeted by a messenger of a mercenary group nearly over a week ago. They call themselves "The Chargers" and are interested in assisting us for the Inquisition.”

"Oh really?" the Herald's arms drop to his side, sounding relieved. "Are they good?"

"They seem promising, however, and I don't really know the best way to say this but um... they will only join us after they speak to you in person."

"Seriously? You're the Commander. What more do they want?" though the question sounded more like an accusation.

"You're the Herald." Cullen's tone remain calm and reasonable. "You are the symbol of this Inquisition and they're more interested in you than they are of us."

The Herald rolls his eyes. "How long until we have to leave?"

"Tonight."

The Herald scoffs and waves his hand dismissively, "That was a good one Commander."

"I'm terribly sorry. We just received an invitation from them two days ago and you were already en route so we didn't have time to negotiate." The Herald frowned and shook his head.

“If you need any reassurance,” Leliana quickly joined in, noticing the Herald's dismal expression, “My scouts have been monitoring the Storm Coast for days. From the reports I received, they appear to be genuine in their offer, and this meeting is nothing more than a demonstration. I don't believe this to be an ambush.”

“And if we're wrong?” The Herald asks.

“They die” she shrugs. “The Quanari leader no doubt would be the toughest bu-”

“Qunari? As in Kirkwall invading, Viscount beheading Qunari?!"

"They're not all bad you know. I traveled with a Qunari before. He was a softy.” she gave a slight smile.

He throws his hands outward in helplessness. “Okay, fine." His shoulders heave and he's no longer making eye contact. “I'll be ready to head out in a few hours.“ He leaves the room without another word.

“Wait Herald, a word!” Josephine calls out to him, running out into the hall, leaving the three of us inside.

“I don't think he likes me,” Cullen said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

I turn my attention towards Cullen. "Why do you say that?"

"I tried to speak to him when he first journeyed to the Hinterlands but he was hostile. Even now. I wish he would see that we're all on the same side."

"He's not that bad, or do you not remember your first encounter with the Warden?" Leliana chimed in.

"I can never forget him." Cullen smiled briefly and walks out the room without another word, leaving just the two of us inside.

I look at her bewildered. "I thought the Warden was a 'sweetheart’?"

"Oh he was when I was done with him. Just had to give him some 'sensitivity training'. She gave me a wink and her smile faltered. "I hope he's okay."

“Do you- ”

“We can talk about him later. What's the story with you and Varric? I heard there was a falling out?”

“Well, what did you expect? Quite frankly, I'm surprised that he's sticking around. After all that's happened, you'd think he'd want to be at Hawke's side more than ever.”

“He seems pretty adamant that he doesn't know where Hawke is.

“Yes he said all that but I am not so sure. Varric may be a pathological liar but he's not as dumb as he appears to be. I think he could track Hawke down if he really wanted to.”

“Perhaps. My scouts have been thorough with their search for Hawke and they have yet to find him. It's possible he doesn't want to be found. In the meantime, we have the Herald.”

“Yes,” I sigh. Not really because of the Herald, but more because I can't shake this feeling that something is not right. Maybe my judgment is biased due to my argument with Varric. I will have to speak to him at some point. “Speaking of the Herald,” I say after a long pause, “We should check up on him to see if he's alright.”

“Sure. He's probably still with Josie.” We leave the War room and approach the door. I'm about to turn the knob when laughter spills out from behind the Ambassadors door.

“That was YOU?!” Josephine sounds as if she is on verge of hysteria. Leliana and I trade glances as I take my hand off the knob.

“Yes,” The Herald chuckled. His northern accent is very distinct. “I was the one who did the walk of shame at Madame Debonair's masquerade. I still don't know who took my clothes while

I freshened up. To this day, I cannot step foot in Antiva without someone recognizing my tush and calling me 'biscuits'.”

Josephine cackles louder. Leliana stifles her own laughter, grabs me and leads us away  towards the outdoors. “I believe he's fine. Let's go check on Cullen.” Leliana laughs the whole time, only stopping momentarily to console the wounded Commander. I use that opportunity to slip away. Quite frankly, I don't see the big fuss. I've worked closely with the Herald for two weeks now. He didn't seem to have a big tush. Not that I looked or anything. Or that I want to look. I am a bit curious though but that's not important.

I need to speak to Varric and try to settle things before we head out tonight. I have not seen him since I arrived here. Perhaps he's at the tavern. It seems like a place he would go. I enter the tavern and notice the liveliness booming inside. There's a crowd gathered around one table. A drinking contest perhaps? I push through the crowd to find Solas and an inquisition soldier with a bandaged shoulder playing a game of chess.

"Solas, have you seen Varric!?" I ask. My voice barely audible due to the Bard and the patrons.

Solas shakes his head. "I haven't seen him since yesterday. Bishop to D2."

The man grins. "I got you now Mage. Queen to D2. Ha! Say goodbye to your Bishop!"  Cheering commences. Gold and Sovereigns clenched in their hands, anticipating the outcome.

_Empress of fire,_

_Believe in us all._

_Embrace us with arms,_

_And dress us with swords._

The melody continues as I contemplate Solas' answer, "You don't know if he is still in Haven then?"

"I don't know, Cassandra. "

"Quit yappin both of ya!" The man glares. "I can tell ya stalling. It's only a matta of time now."

Solas smiles and looks at me. "The stable has been set up in advance for Master Dennet. Check the stable to see if Varric's horse is there. He named her 'Shambaya'." I'm already heading towards the exit as Solas continues speaking. "Now where was I... Oh right. Queen to D2. I believe that's checkmate."

I'm outside the Tavern before the chaos erupts, walking and then jogging towards the stables. "Master Dennet!" I call out towards him, as he finishes feeding one of his charges.

"Did Varric take one of the Horses?"

"Ah, lady Seeker," he beams, "He told my assistant he had personal matters to attend to but wouldn't specify about it. Everything okay?" There is a hint of concern on his face.

"Oh it's nothing. I just had to ask him a question but it can wait." I walk back towards the castle. So Varric left early in the morning. Where did he go? And why did he not inform anyone? Ugh.

  **Storm Coast (Maxwell POV)**

I hate this place. It rains and rains. Stops for some time, and then rains even harder. I hate the mercenaries for setting this meeting up and pissed that Cullen even agreed to this location. My clothes are soaked and sticking to me and I've done my best to adjust my pants that keeps sticking to my ass but finally gave up. Cassandra has been giving me weird looks since we reached the area and demand that I walk behind her for now on, stating that I'm 'too distracting'. I should stop complaining. Bitching won't help the situation but I feel that I deserved at least a day to unwind. I search deep inside me to find a smile as we approach Scout Harding. You can never frown at a beautiful woman. I'm not really into dwarves but I'd make an exception for her.

"Your Worship!" She flashes a half smile in return. "For what it's worth, welcome to the Storm Coast." Believe me, I'm thrilled. Really thrilled. "I would've sent word sooner but our efforts have been..." distress registers on her face, "Delayed."

"Delayed." I echoed. Not liking where this is going.

"There's a group of bandits operating within the area. They know the terrain well. Their groups were too much for our small party to handle. Some of our soldiers went to speak to their leader but we have yet to hear back from them."

My blood runs cold. " These group of bandits wouldn't happened to be named 'the Chargers'?

She looks at me quizzically "Um.. No, your worship. We know about your meeting with them. That's why we came here. They'll be waiting for you at the beach. The group i'm talking about seems to be further down. At least that's where our soldiers began their search."

"Okay," I nod. "I'll keep a look out for our people as soon as I can. She thanks me and we are on our way towards the beach. My stomach is in knots, and my heart is pounding the closer we get to the beach.

"Everything will be fine Herald." Cassandra gives me a momentary glance.

"I'd feel better if more people from our side came to the meeting. It's just the three of us." I gesture towards her, Solas and myself. "Where's Varric?"

"Good question," she says and keeps walking. Solas doesn't offer anything so I drop the subject.

I step onto the beach and right in the middle of a war zone. Swords clashing, grunting, screaming. More chaos, and laughter. Laughter? My eyes lock in on the Qunari. He seems to be enjoying himself. He's huge.

He glances at me, and I do my best to not flinch. "You made it just in time. Take a seat and enjoy the show." This catches me off guard and I sit down, before realizing that I'm in the middle of a battle and I stand back up. On top of that, I see two soldiers charging towards him, but he's still focused on me, looking amused.

He's going to get himself killed. "Hey!" My arm jabs out, fingers pointing straight ahead. If he understands what I'm saying he doesn't seem alarmed. In fact, he turns around as if his mom called him to tell him it's time for supper. In one smooth motion he lifts his axe and slams it against the ground. The advancing warriors are knocked down. Did he just create a mini earthquake? How the? What the? I can't even put into thoughts of what just happened as his axe comes down again at the two men.

I comfort myself with the fact that if attacked, Solas has lightning energy that should be amplified in the rain. As long as it doesn’t hit me.. The fight continues and the chargers appear to be very dominant. I don't know the opposing side but they never stood a chance it seems. The battle lasted only a minute.

"Chargers stand down." The Quanari says casually, approaching a fellow soldier of his.  "Crem, How many wounded?"

"5 or 6 wounded chief. No dead." he responds

“That's what I like to hear. Let the throat cutters finish up, then break out the casks." Wow that's brutal and he's so casual about it.

He shoots me a polite smile, or a very convincing one. “So I finally meet the man behind the Inquisition. Glad you can make it. Come on. Have a seat. Drinks are coming.” He gestures towards a nearby rock, a few feet away from Cassandra and Solas. A little too far for my liking. I glance at Cassandra and she nods her approval. I guess there's no turning back now.

"The man behind the Inquisition?" I ask mildly.

"Yeah. You're the guy who can close the demon portals right?" He looks at my right hand. The mark still present though not glowing at the moment.

"That's right" I say evenly.

"My kind of guy then. I hate demons you know." He takes a seat on a nearby rock but I remain standing.

"Yeah. Who doesn't?" I hope Solas, doesn't have super hearing abilities. "Name's Maxwell by the way."

"You can call me The Iron bull"

"'The' Iron bull?"

He grins "Yeah. I like having an article in the front. It makes it sound like I'm not even a person. Just a mindless weapon, an implement of destruction. That really works for me"

Holy Shit! This guy is psycho. He sounds like he gets off on this. "Cool." That's the most I can manage.

“This is Cremisius Aclassi, my lieutenant." The Iron Bull says, towards the young man now standing next to me. To my credit, I didn't jump at his sudden appearance.  His face looks a bit feminine but I suppose you can't judge a book by it's cover.

“Nice to meet you" He says to me, before addressing his boss. "Throat cutters are done chief.”

“Already?" The Iron Bull raises an eyebrow." Have them check again. I don't want any of those tevinter bastards getting away. No offense Krem"

He shrugs “None taken. Least the bastard knows who his mother was. Puts him one up on you Qunari right?" He walks away. That was pretty rude. The Iron Bull doesn't seem to mind though. He even chuckled at that. Strange people.

"So you've seen us fight" he continues. "We're expensive but worth it”. I size him up again. Even sitting down, he's at my chest level. His body has a few scars. I have my own customary scar but I'm sure it wasn't gained from anything as impressive as his. He's also built like a tank. "Before you decide though, there's something you should know. I'm a Ben-Hassrath"

A spy. Of course there's a catch. Is there anyone who's not a spy? Leliana is a spy, Varric is somewhat a spy. Every damn Bard across Thedas and Orlais is a spy. "A Ben- Hassrath". I echo. I've been doing that a lot.

"Yes. I rather you hear it from me first. The Ben-Hassrath find the breach unsettling. Part of the reason I want to join the Inquisition is to put them at ease, by letting them know how the situation is developing. At the same time, I can also give you reports from the Ben-Hassrath agents stationed throughout Orlais. With your consent, I'll share them with your people. I promise that none of my reports will involve anything that will compromise your operation. Just enough to put my people at ease concerning the Breach. Everybody wins here. "

I say nothing, keeping my eyes on him. I want to believe him. He seems honest and appears to be upfront with me. He doesn't appear hostile either. However, he's a spy. Leliana also appears to be friendly but even i'm not that naive. I know what would happen if the tables were turned and she was my enemy, but she has something at stake with the Inquisition. I don't know this Qunari.  What if he wants to get closer to destroy us from the inside? No I can't let him join. I have to say no and if he's genuine, he'll just let this go and everyone walks away. We still have our own soldiers to worry about. I can't waste time delaying.  It's a shame though. Such a strong guy. If he'd simply requested to be my personal bodyguard... "You'd certainly be worth it" I say out loud.

"Great!" he grins. Wait. What just happened?. "Krem. Tell the men to finish drinking on the road. The Chargers just got hired." Oh maker. What did I just do?! Take it back! Take it back now! I open my mouth to speak, but the Iron Bull has his hands around mine, thanking me and patting me on my shoulder. I stand speechless, watching Krem and the other warriors gearing up to leave, introducing themselves to Solas and Cassandra. "I'm your man from here on. This is gonna be fun" he throws me a mischievous wink.

"Yeah fun. Lot's of fun." I gulp.

To be continued..

 


	4. Second thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank the lovely Rachel for taking time to help me with my edits. Thank you again to the people that comment, kudo, follow, and read. The more I write, the more fun I have with this story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> I originally intended to introduce Blackwall during this chapter but decided to push him back to chapter five. You'll see why in the next chapter ;)
> 
> Things are going to speed up after this so enjoy the slow ride while it lasts =D

**Dragon 9:41. Storm Coast (Maxwell POV)**

The rain comes to an abrupt end and the chatter around me becomes audible. I allow my polite smile to surface as mercenaries shake my hand, expressing their enthusiasm. The Iron Bull wastes no time sending his men, healthy and wounded, to our base camp to have a celebratory drink. They're gone within minutes leaving the Iron bull with my companions and me.

“We're ready to move,” Cassandra says as I walk towards them. Move? Where are we going? I dwell on the past few minutes in my attempt to remember, “Towards the last place our scouts were seen,” she adds with a bit of impatience.

“Of course!” I say hastily, “Sorry.”

The Qunari chuckles heartily. “Don't be too hard on him. He's probably still in shock after seeing our demonstration.” He shoots me a wink. “Right boss?”

“That was... that was... something else,” I smile. Cassandra rolls her eyes though I can see a small curve of her lips. The Iron Bull maintains his grin. Solas is a different story. The way he's looking at me right now... I avoid eye contact and face Cassandra. “Shall we get moving before the rain returns?”

We continue onward, scaling the mountain. The terrain is muddy with recent footprints though we can't determine from whom. Hopefully it belongs to our people. Speaking of, are the Chargers considered 'my people' now? Hold on. There were at least nine members and they're all heading to camp and they outnumber our current soldiers at the camp. I didn't even think about that.... Maker's breath, this is ridiculous. There's not going to be an ambush now. There's not going to be an ambush later. Leliana even said they were genuine. Maybe she already knew he was a spy? It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be-

I'm yanked backwards by my collar. “Don't move,” Cassandra hisses into my ear.

I snap out of my thoughts to see three foreign soldiers with their blades tilted in our direction, all wearing blue and gold patterned armor. “That's far enough, Trespasser,” the middle man spoke. “You better have a good reason for being on our land!”

I'm more concerned of how I just blindly walked into them. How long was I in this daze? “We're just travelers,” I reply instinctively. My hands spread out openly. “We mean you no harm.”

“You're with the Inquisition!” The disapproval in his tone is clear.

“So you would know that we're looking for our missing scouts,” Cassandra cut in. “Where are they?” She demands.

“We're done talking,” he says, but he doesn't charge.

“Snipers at three!” The Qunari screams. Cassandra twists as the arrow sinks into her shield, inches away from her throat. I'm not as fortunate. The second arrows grazes me and I stagger backwards, feeling wetness above my right eye. The blood seeps into my eyes and my return arrow flies aimlessly as my vision goes black. I stumble through the blackness, hearing swords clashing before a large thunderbolt deafens me, the vibrations threatening to knock me off this mountain.

My free hand gropes for a tree and I wipe my eyes to see the archer rising to his feet with his back turned. I jump onto him and wrap my arms around his neck as we crash down.

“Where are they?” I growl. He flails but doesn't say anything. I tighten my grip

He taps my hand and I release my grip a little. “Inside the abandoned building. We had to kill them,” he wheezes.

The stinging sensation is nothing compared to this dread washing over me. “Why?”

“We are the Blades of Hessarian. My leader said you aren't to be trusted and we are sworn to his orders.“

“Where is your leader?”

“We have a camp further east. Are you going to kill me?”

My grip tightens. “You tried to kill us.”

“Do what you must. I just ask that you spare my fellow brothers and sisters. We only follow our leader. There's a necklace around my neck. Take it and speak to him. They won't interfere.” I loosen a little but his body goes limp and I know he's unconscious. I roll him over to take the necklace and strip him of his weapons.

“I found him,” the Iron bull calls out, helping me to my feet with his hands cupped around my face. I recoil from his touch to my wound but I can't escape his grip. “Shit. They were definitely aiming to kill.”

“How bad is it?” I ask, closing my eyes partly because of the pain, but mainly because I feel a little embarrassed to be staring at his chest. It could be worse. This could be Cassandra and I'd have to choose between staring at her face, or staring down at her- No. Nothing good would have came from that.

“Just a minor cut. The real question is whether you want a scar?”

“No!”

He chuckles. “Well hold still then.” He drenches me in water and I grit my teeth and clench my fists. “Alcohol numbs the pain a bit but it's also bad for your skin cells. Disrupts the healing process.” He wraps a cloth around my forehead and releases his grip. ”Much better.” The smile on my face surprises me.

“I fear for our scouts if this was the welcome we received,” Cassandra sighs as she approaches me with Solas at her side.

My smile fades and I'm careful to keep my voice leveled. “They're dead. Their bodies are in that abandoned house over there.” No one says anything. I hold up the necklace. “Supposedly this necklace will allow us to speak to the leader without being attacked. ”

An abrupt cough originates behind me. "He's still alive," The Qunari says and quickly puts an end to that with a slash across the man's neck. He was so casual about it. My mouth works but I can't form any words and I turn my attention back to the house.

"Those soldiers were obviously carried inside the house. There may be something else of value inside," Solas says. "The Herald and I will keep watch.

"Erm. Why don't you two go inside and we keep watch?" Cassandra replies.

"Very well." Apparently I don't get a say in anything.

The gut wrenching stench inside eliminates any hope I had for the scouts survival. I kneel and gently shut the eyes of the fallen ones. "Here lies the abyss, The well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you." I allow the moment to sink in.

"Andrastian?" Solas asks me after a beat of silence.

"No, but these guys were." I stand to face him. I'll have to inform their families and yet... I'm supposed to just spare the other bandits who would have done the same thing?"

"What will you do?"

I sigh, letting the hatred simmer. "Talk to them I suppose. See if their leader can be reasoned with."

"What if the Iron Bull thinks differently and decides to kill them all?"  his voice is a whisper.

"I'd stop him," I whisper with as much confidence I can muster. Images of the Qunari slaughtering the Venatori and his recent slaying floods my memory.

"You're trembling, Herald." Only then do I notice the involuntary shivering of my body. I can't even close my fist. "Is this what you really want?" He leans closer, "The Iron Bull and his mercenaries. Is that really what you want?"

"Of course. Why?"

"You tell me? You've been strange since your meeting with him."

"I have not!" Whispering has never been so difficult.

"Your trembling suggests otherwise.” A beat of silence. "Why would you agree to his alliance if you're uncomfortable with him being a Ben Hassrath?"

My eyes widen. "How did you even-?"

"I've pegged you as a contemplative man which is a virtue. However, you have a tendency to be inattentive when you're obsessed with your thoughts." I instinctively cross my arms. "He told us about his role. I've debated with him for the past few minutes before our encounter. Both that and our warnings prior to the ambush went unnoticed by you."

"Looks like everything worked out for the best," I say, attempting to match his sarcasm. I’m failing.

"Deny this if you will Herald, but heed my warning." He places a hand on my shoulder, "Making a wrong decision is not bad in itself but clinging to it due to pride or fear can be very dangerous... especially when it involves someone with strong ties to the Qun."

The intensity of my shivering declines and I relax a little. "I want to give him a chance at the very least." I tap the cloth wrapped around my forehead, wincing a little. "I didn't intend to align with him but I may have been wrong. I need to give him a bit more time to be sure."

"Fair enough." He releases his grip and hands me a folded paper. "Time will tell if you're right about him, but you may be right about the bandits." I read the note and conclude the raiders will hold true to their words.

"Is everything okay?"  Cassandra calls out.

"Yes," I call out, "Just needed time to mourn."

We continue onward.

 

**Storm Coast Outskirts (Iron Bull POV)**

We descend the mountain and continue eastward towards the camp.

I got a feel for these people during the bandits joke of an ambush. Cassandra is a competent fighter. Great armor that caters to every inch of her body but I'll save that conversation for another day. Not that I'm sexist. Just that some high-ranking women wear ornamental crap with tits hammered into it. One good shot, and all that cleavage gets knocked right into the sternum. It's not pretty. Besides, she has great reflexes. I don't know if I enjoyed the way she sliced off the asshole's blade arm or the way she blocked the arrow from hitting her more.

Then there's Solas. A bit of a hardass, or maybe something's stuck up there, long and hard. Might be where he keeps his staff. HA! He's pretty clear about his distaste for the Qun and my role as a Ben-Hassrath. Quite the opinionated elf but there's something about him that's a bit off. He's clearly an apostate but his use of magic is so... plain? and yet it's pretty fucking sweet. That lightning came down like BOOM and rocked the whole mountain. He hasn't had any Lyrium since the battle either which is odd because that must've been a lot of magic. He could have had it when he checked out the house with the Herald though.

Simply put, he can't fight for shit, not based on what I've seen. He has heart though. Took that man down despite the blood gushing down his face.

"How's your wound?" I ask.

"You know, still throbbing and painful," he responds.

I catch his hand before it reaches his forehead. He jerks for a split second; he might not be a fan of contact.  "I thought you didn't want a scar."

"You're right." A nervous chuckle.

I could have some fun with this but I'll let it go for now.

We approach the two guards who stands at ease upon seeing the Herald's necklace. They trade whispers but let us in without another word.

Eyes fall on us as we enter. Looks like we interrupted a training session. The Herald quickly produces the necklace, his hands a bit moist now.

Let's see. Two daggers, three snipers, and four knights. This will be a challenge if shit hits the fan. I hope Solas still has some gas in his tank. However, if he pulls a demon out of his ass I'm leaving.

The leader crosses over and approaches the Herald. How do I know he's the leader?  All of his soldiers faced him the moment they saw the necklace. He's also the only one bold enough to wield a hatchet with no shield.

“Who gave that to you?” He asks.

“I never got his name. He was an archer though.” Cries erupt through the camp, I'm sure they figured it out then. The leader raises his free hand and the silence returns.

“I see. Being that I'm responsible for your men's deaths I'll accept a one on one duel."

"You got it," I cut in before the Herald responds. Everyone backs away, clearing the middle path for me and my opponent. I plant my axe in the dirt and gesture to Cassandra for her blade.

"You dishonor me Qunari. I earned my place here. I don't need any handicaps." He fastens his Helmet on. Fine by me.

I shrug and pick up my axe. He feints to my right and charges to my left as my axe rips through his head like butter. The headless knight sinks to the ground.

I slowly turn towards the bandits for dramatic effect.

Some are undeniably terrified, but most appear at ease. A knight steps forward escaping the grip of his concerned comrades as he approaches the Herald without hostility. "We don't want to fight. I was the second in Command until today."

The Herald nods, "So what will you do now?" he asks, his composure relaxed.

"If you'll have us, The Blades of Hessarian are at your service. You need eyes on the coast, and we're the right ones for it."

"What about your former leader?"

"Just so you know, not everyone shared the ideals of that Bastard. No one survived him until now."

The Herald flick glances towards me, but continues to speak to the new leader. I have to admit, he's a good speaker.

As for the bandits. I guess they're not just bandits anymore but the Inquisition's bandits. Not bad.

......................................................

After some minor persuasion, the new leader and his lieutenant joined us at the camp site. Harding was a bit of a hardass but she accepted their apology. The men stayed for drinks and then one of our guys escorted him back. Just about anything can be fixed with alcohol.

Now everyone is feeling pretty good. Some joking, flirtation...maybe fucking? Looks like one of my boy's about to get lucky.

"Hey Bull." The Herald stagger towards me his cheeks flushed. Oh he's blasted.

"Hey yourself. How many drinks have you had?"

He shrugs "Just a bit. Got a minute to talk?"

"That's what we're doing"

"I mean-"

My laughter stops him. "I know what you mean. Come on." We head back towards the beach where we first met. Something's up but I don't press. Sounds like he's ready to get things off his chest. I gesture towards a rock for him to sit.

"No, no. You sit." I go to sit but he pulls me back. "No! Not now. Wait a bit." He points toward the beach. "Okay. Go kill those venatori."

I look at the dead bodies. "Erm... come again?"

"Kill the Venatori."

"They're.....dead."

He rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'm going to be you for a bit." He hands me his bottle of whiskey and walks away swinging his imaginary axe into his imaginary opponents. "I'm THE IRON BULL!!" he roars. I should stop him but this is getting good. I cover my mouth to stifle my laughs but I lose it after his battle cry. He's out of breath when he returns and gently pushes me back onto the rock. "Okay you're you now. I'm me again."

I'm still laughing. Last thing I should be doing since I'm about to get fired but this guy is something else. Might as well get this over with. "There's something you should know," I say, playing along and he feigns surprise. "I'm a ben-hassrath"

"I'm not comfortable with this." He pinches his eyes shut as if trying to shield my reaction.

We both stay silent for awhile. I'm the first to break it. "Do you want me to go?" I ask, half expecting him to nod. "It's okay. I get it. The Qun has a notorious reputation and you don't know me that well. No hard feelings." I start to get up, but he lays a hand on my shoulder.

He frowns. "Wait. I want to apologize. I was... I was afraid, okay?" I hand him his bottle and he takes a long, deliberate swig. "Still am. You're strong, wise. Wiser than you let on." Another large swig. "I like you though. I think you can be trusted and I want to trust you... I just don't want to be wrong." This is the first time his eye contact didn't waver. "You won't betray me right?"

Whoa. Didn't see that coming. I'm feeling guilty as if I've been secretly plotting to ravage his homelands and rape the women all along. Not that I ever did any of those things. They always consent to ride this Bull.

"I give you my word" I reach my hand out and he clasps it firmly. "You have the loyalty of me and my men"

"Thanks Bull- Sorry, The Iron Bull"

"Bull is fine" I pat him on the shoulder. "Let's get back to camp. Don't want to miss the rest of our party."

"Could use another drink"

"No way. You've just about reach your limit. We don't want you puking all over the dirt. Bad for the ecosystem, and it attracts wolves" That was just a joke but his eyes gone wide and I could tell he ate it up.

"Good point. No more drinks for me tonight." he yawns. "I'll get some sleep"

He stays true to his word and I don't see him again for the night. I take a brief nap before rising to take over guard duty. Cassandra mutters that this is the first time the Herald has slept through half of the night without screaming in his sleep.

**Meanwhile**

**Hinterlands- Forannane Ravine (Varric POV)**

This is stupid. This is really fucking stupid.... but I have to.

A few guards are posted at the entrance which is fine as long as they stay there. The patrols at the campsite above me will be a bigger pain though. It's been weeks since the crazies roamed through these lands, aka the knights and the mages. Perhaps these guys and gals will relax, kick back and enjoy some warden whiskey. All of this would be true if they weren't Cassandra's men.

Hopefully my "tip" regarding the advancing Templars from the southeast will keep them on their toes, or long enough before they discover that the Templars have been kicked out the hinterlands. That should stop them from getting lazy at least. Cassandra can't say I never did her any favors.

I leave Shambaya at camp and casually mention I'd do some scouting on foot. I make my way to the river using the boulders as cover as I pass the Fort. There are perks to being a Dwarf after all. I follow the river to the end of the path and walk up. This is where we came to take care of the possessed wolves. This is where Hawke is.

Our eyes lock and we rush in for a brief embrace. "How are you?" I ask.

"Still alive," he says, good humor and all. "And look at this." He takes a step back, spreading his arms wide, "The only stain on this armor is sweat. Ten days without killing. A new record."

Despite my somber mood I chuckle. "Enjoy that while you can Hawke. You'll be killing again soon enough."

"You always say the right things. So tell me, is the Seeker still... seeking?"

"She's preoccupied with her current victim. Maker knows what he's been through these past few days." I glance at the wolves den behind us, "Please tell me you checked this time."

Hawke rolls his eyes. "I'm hurt Varric. We've been friends for how long now?"

"Well?"

"Yes Varric. There are no wolves or people among us." He finally turns serious. "How bad is it?"

"Red lyrium."

He closes his eyes and inhales sharply. "How?"

I pinch my forehead. "I don't know Hawke. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

Hawke doesn't hear me though; he's busy circling around me. He will never learn how to pace like a normal person.

"Hawke continued to circle around the Dwarf like a predator..."

"Please stop," he groans.

"Hawke begged the Dwarf to stop but continued to circle him like a madman." He gives me the finger and plants his ass on the floor. "Now that I have your undivided attention, let me just say that I haven't encountered anyone using it, but it's being mined. I don't know who, but it's fucked up either way."

"Fucked up indeed."

"We'll fix it."

"You mean like how we fixed..." he trails away. I can't bring myself to say it either. "You know, Sebastian will stay true to his word. He's just biding his time. It's not like he has anything or anyone better to do."

I shrug. There's no point in stating the obvious I would've been more than happy to have killed him when he turned his back on us. So what if he was our companion for a few years? Saying stuff like "Mark my words. I will come back and destroy your home," was a good enough warning for me. Hawke was uncharacteristically merciful that night and it has cost him. I'm not blaming him. I just wish things turned out differently. This is more than we ever bargained for.

"Aveline will respond eventually. Still haven't heard from your sis?"

He barely nods. "She said it was best I didn't know for the time being. I'll ask Stroud anyways if I can find him."

Water splashes in the distance. I glance at Hawke, feeling immobilized for just a moment. I risk a peek to see a Druffalo trotting down, and I shoot Hawke a thumbs up. "Just a damn Druffalo. Andraste’s fucking tits." We should be relieved but the constant splashing is too distracting.

The four legged beast practically drinks half the river before heading back to the farm.

"There was a time when the Qunari feared us, and now we jump at the sound of water. What are we doing Varric?"

"The hell if I know Hawke. This whole thing's a mess. The only person we know even capable of sealing these damn rifts can barely survive on his own. I hope you're ready for the end of the world party. World of demons, mages, templars, and no wardens."

"They can't be that hard to find."

I chuckle. "Our very own spymaster can't seem to find one."

"I thought I saw a Warden down by the lake."

I feign suspicion. "So you've become a spy too now Hawke? Ha! Give me a break."

"No, I'm serious. There was some guy walking by himself. He had the armor but after our last encounter with the Wardens, I avoided contact.”

"Where did you say you saw him?"

Splash. Splash. Splash. They echo in quick succession. I grip Bianca, ready to scare off these annoying beasts. I pivot and two pair of hands shoot up. Just some stupid refugees who chose the noisiest place to swap saliva.

"We come in peace Dwarf. Watch where you point that thing!" the man says as his classy girlfriend laughs.

"You're right. I'm aiming too high. Let me focus on eye level." I aim it down towards his crotch and pretend to pull the trigger as he dives into the water. I get a good laugh out of that. I'd turn to Hawke if he was there, but I know he disappeared already.

I ignore the empty threats and return towards the camp to get Shambaya. I'm gonna have some explaining to do when I return to Haven. Maybe a little less if I pull this off.

 

**Two weeks later-Haven (Maxwell POV)**

"Last round boys! Double time!" Iron Bull yells.

I reluctantly pick up the sack of  weights and lug it up the snowy hill. My legs are on fire. I used up all the saliva my body could muster, but my throat burns.I continue up, dropping the sack at the top and feeling some temporarily lightness but I still have to reach that tree a few yards away. I grab the axe and hack away at the tree a good ten times before I have to stop.

I look over and see the other guys still hacking away. I've managed to keep pace with them during the first two rounds but it's too much for me now. The numbness in my arm stops any hope I have of holding the axe for more than a few seconds. I take a knee and catch my breath as everyone else finish their fifty hacks and continue down the hill with their sacks.The embarrassment and jealousy drives me to do another twenty hacks, break, eight, break, five, break, five, break and then my last two.

I alternate between sprinting and walking to reach the peak of the hill, grab my sack and carry it back down. The other guys are drinking water but cheer me on as I reach the bottom, dropping the sack and collapsing onto the snow. My stomach is gurgling and I want to puke, but I manage not to.

My Qunari friend pats me on my back. "Way to keep going boss."

I respond with some unintelligible gibberish and panting.

He hands me a mug with water and I take a few sips at a time. I learned my lesson the last time I tried to chug it down. It came back up and then some.

"Still too slow," I say through ragged breaths.

"Still improving. Just remember, my men are used these drills. Everyone starts at the bottom."

"Yeah, yeah." I stand and shake my numb legs.

"Your scar is gone."

I instinctively touch my forehead, feeling for the scar but all I feel is sweat.

"It's gone," he chuckles. "Go get washed up. The Ambassador wants to speak to you."

I limp towards the Chantry and find the bathing room, pleased to see it unoccupied, but then again it's always unoccupied for me. I feel bad for the others who use the public baths downstairs. I greet the polite servant elf as she warms the tub for me. Her hands tremble during the process which is ridiculous. It's just pouring hot water but no matter. I wonder if she's naturally like that or if it's just with me. It's awkward. Back home I shooed away the servants. I didn't need anyone to run my bath water. I still didn't when I first got to Haven, but not anymore. I'm just too tired to dismiss the help thanks to the Iron Bull.... and Cassandra... and pretty much everyone.

She looks away as I strip and enter the tub, and damn does it feel magical. "Permission to turn around my lord?"

"Yes." She turns around holding a tray and sprinkles an unknown substance into the tub. I close my eyes taking in the aroma. I can stay here forever.

"I will gather your drying cloth and clean clothes, my lord."

I only hum in return, splashing water over my face. Thoughts race through my mind, too many and too sudden to make sense of anything. The only thing that lingers is the whereabouts of Varric. I heard he went back to the Hinterlands to deal with some Templars. I hope he is safe. The servant returns with my items before dismissing herself again. I continue soaking until the water is barely warm. Satisfied, I dry off and dress in my formal attire.

Josephine greets me outside her office. "How are you your Worship?"

I frown. "You're going to keep calling me that aren't you?"

She stiffens. "Oh. My apologies. I didn't mean to offend you. I-"

"I'm kidding."

Her face reddens a bit but she flashes a quick smile. "Well it's good that you're in a good mood. I just received word from Revered Mother Hevara. She has gathered the remaining clerics and will reach Val Royeaux in two weeks. "

"Why yes, I finally get to meet all of my naysayers at once." I'm still feeling the side effects of the bath because I have been dreading this moment for some time.

"I do agree that it will be a somewhat unpleasant experience, but rest assured your Worship, we will have our best guards accompany you."

"I glad my safety is your concern." Okay, not my best line, but I was never good at flirting.

"Of course your worship-ah- Herald?"

"Maxwell is fine."

She nods. "How about this. I will call you Maxwell during informal conversations and your worship during formal matters."

"And what is this now?"

"Formal of course. Unless you enjoy discussing diplomatic concerns during your free time."

"Touche."

"Where is he?" A new voice can be heard from outside.

"Calm down now!" Cassandra’s voice follows. Josephine and I rush outside to see an audience. A disgruntled man is arguing with Cassandra who appears to be at the peak of her patience.

"What's going on?" I ask, standing just a few feet away from them

The man pivots towards me. His face twisted in disgust. "You made an alliance with those barbarians who killed my brother! What's wrong with you?"

He spoke with such force that I couldn't think of anything to say. Cassandra was tasked with informing the families, but we returned days ago.

"I already explained to you that the alliance was for the benefit of our scouts," Cassandra cut in.

The man shook his head vehemently. "They attacked without provocation and killed not only him but the other scouts as well." His eyes are on me, "and you dare to make an alliance with those who killed your people? The ones who have sworn their duties for the Inquisition? You fucking coward!"

He lunges towards me and punches me in the face before Cassandra takes him down. She binds his wrists and orders the guards to take him away.

Josephine is asking if I'm okay but my blood is boiling. To be called a traitor and humiliated like that. Piece of shit. Why didn't I say anything?

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" I turn towards the new voice to see... Varric? How did he... and who is that man in the beard standing with him?

"Varric!" Cassandra shouts, finally losing her patience as she close in on him, "Start talking. Now!"

 

To be continued....


	5. Decisions part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I want to apologize. I know this is long overdue. I've been pretty busy but I will work harder to produce chapters in a shorter time. Regardless, I plan to finish this story. =)

**Dragon 9:41 Haven, War Room(Blackwall POV)**

The Dwarf said that the inquisition had questions for me, but the dark haired female soldier seem to have more questions for him. She quickly escorted us into the room that two other people currently occupied. The recently punched man and the woman with him also came inside.

Now they continue to go at it with a few interjections from the others. They don't seem to like each other. Strange. I was told that this group was pretty harmonious but I guess that was more of a sales pitch. I stay quiet, wondering if they even know that I'm here.

She stabs her finger towards him. "Don't confuse the issue Varric!"

He inspects his fingernails, barely acknowledging her "Correct me if I'm wrong Seeker. Were you not looking for a Gray Warden? "

"And I'm supposed to believe that YOU intentionally searched for him on your own after your prior experience with the wardens?"

"Prior experience?" I speak up, looking at the Dwarf called Varric.

He sighs, " I once knew a warden that blew up the-"

"That's not what I meant" She cuts him off. "I'm talking about the prison tower"

"What about it?"

"Don't play coy you conniving-

"Cassandra" a low warning tone from the beautiful blonde lady across the table. Her eyes fixated on me. "I understand your anger but Varric is not important at this time"  He only shrugs

The dark haired warrior grunts before locking her eyes on me. "I am sorry for my lack of manners. I am Seeker Pentaghast. We have been looking for a Gray Warden for some time."

"I'm here." I say," Is there anything that I can do for you?"

"Yes. You should know that we're investigating the disappearance of the gray wardens. If there is any significance between their disappearance and the Divines murder."

My nostrils flare at the insinuation " We would _never_ do that. We're non political"

"I'm not so sure about that" the blonde lady responds calmly. "I traveled with two wardens before. One in particular was very political. You may have heard of him."

"Traveled with two wardens?" I ponder for just a moment before it comes back. I suddenly feel a jolt of excitement, mixed in with a pang of fear. "You traveled with the Hero of Fereldan and king Alistair." It sounded more like a question than a firm statement but that's ok.

"I did" a small smile tugs her lips.

"I'd say the blight gives us a rare exception to be a little bit political. I've heard great things about them though. I always wanted to meet them and shake their hands. They're the type of men that all wardens should aspire to be."

She nods sympathetically. "How did you come across Varric?"

I glance at him. "He helped me defend a few refugees from bandits. Then told me that we were suspected of the divine's murder. I figured not coming would only make us appear more guilty." Out of everyone in this room, I feel an unspoken connection with Leliana. I keep my eyes on her. "Do you seriously think that we had something to do with this?"

"No!" she blurts. I look around the room for naysayers but I find none.

"Thank you. I wish I could tell you where the other wardens have gone but I've been traveling alone for a long time. At the very least I can help here if you'd allow me."

"Certainly. No one will object to that" small murmurs of agreements follow. "Then it's settled. Welcome to the inquisition. Varric will show you around and get you up to speed. We'll talk again after your background check is completed."

The dwarf bows "As you wish my lady. Come on warden."

"What did she mean by that?" I ask as the door close.

"That lovely woman with the Orleasian accent is our spymaster. Don't take it personal warden, she does it to everyone."

"No I understand" my tone even. "Who were the other people in the room?"

"Those are the people that are going to lead us all to glory, or get us all killed trying."

"Oh. I meant who-"

"I know what you meant." He chuckles. "You already met our spymaster, the blond man is the commander. I know. I couldn't believe that either. The woman with the dress is the ambassador. The pretty boy with the scar is the Herald of Andraste."

I cock an eyebrow before I could stop myself. "What's so great about him?"

"Take a closer look the next time you see him. He's the Herald of Andraste."

"That Sounds important but why did that guy want to kill him then?"

He shrugs again. "Someone's always bitching. Let me show you around the pub. We might hear some gossip."

I take in the surrounding area as Varric fills me in about the Breach in the sky, and how the Herald supposedly walked out of it unscathed. Out of an area that is home to the worst demons alike.

But it's the villagers that get to me. So many people driven from their homes with the Inquisition as their only refuge. Children that are missing one or both of their parents, The people reek of desperation. If what Varric says is true about the man's capabilities, then the motivation for these people to continue living is clear.

Regardless, I must talk to him when I get the chance to form my own opinion.

In the pub, I am introduced to an intelligent elf that appears to be very dominant in chess. His name is Chuckles but he doesn't appear to be someone that laughs often. He was cordial towards me at the very least. He prefers that I call him Solas. I prefer that as well.

The tour ends with us taking a small walk through around the hunting area, just outside the village. There seems to be enough game to feed the villagers for a few more days at best but they will need other sources at some point. Perhaps I can work out some arrangements with the treaties. I can-

I notice even before I'm instructed to find cover by the tree. A large Qunari armed with a longsword, flanked by two of the Inquisition soldiers. No blood has been shed around the snow yet but Qunari appears to have the advantage with his reach.

Varric pulls out his cross bow, creeping up closer. The soldiers are in the way and there's too much open space for him to try an flank. The best solution is to wait for an opening. But still, a man that skilled hasn't drawn any blood yet.

The Qunari rams the handle of his sword against the man's face and brings him down. His back is exposed!

"Wait!" I turn to see the Herald but he's a second too late. The bolt has hit it's target. From this distance, it appears glued to the Qunari's ass. Painful.

 

**Val Royeaux (Cassandra POV)**

I ignore the whispers and stares from the towns people as the Herald and I make our way into the market.

"Just a guess Seeker, But I think they all know who we are", the annoying dwarf speaks.

"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me Varric" I respond.

"Just trying to be helpful" I ignore him. "Are you still mad over that? It was a _misunderstanding_. The Iron Bull got over it. "

"I believe his exact words were 'Take this trigger happy dwarf with you so I can drink in peace'" The Herald chimes in, but not as seriously as I would like him to be. Varric did after all attempt to murder the Iron Bull during a training session with Cullen's men. He blamed it on horrible past experiences with Quanari, yet calls my view of the mages and the circle rigid? Please.

One of Leliana's spy informs us that the Chantry have called the Templars to intercept us. The Chantry support is important but the Templars are a must. They may have the power necessary to help close the breach. We make our way through the crowd just in time to hear to vile spewed towards us.

Revered Mother Hevara addresses the audience, wearing her chantry gown. "Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery! "You wonder what will become of her murderer?" she says. Her eyes lock on us and the look of disgust is unmistakable. "Well wonder no more. Behold the so called 'Herald of Andraste'. Claiming to rise where our beloved fell. We say this is a false prophet! No servant of anything beyond his selfish greed!"

"That's not true!" I blurt out. "The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!" A chorus of jeers surround us.

"It is already too late" a small army approach Mother Hevara. I expected them to be here. I even expected to see Lord Seeker Lucius, with his signature bronze armor, the seekers emblem engraved in the center.  but I did not expect him to openly turn his back on Val Royeaux.

"Lord Seeker Lucius" no response. "Lord Seeker-"

"You will not address me treacherous woman.  Creating a heretical movement. Dressing this pathetic puppet as Andraste's prophet? You should be ashamed." he gives me one last look before marching his soldiers out of the city.

I am speechless. Lord Seeker Lucius was a great man. He was always known for being reasonable and would be _the one_ that would help end the madness between the Templars and the Mages. Now he speaks as if he's planning a to return the right of annulment. Have we not learned our lessons from Kirkwall my lord? No. There must be some sense that we can't see. I want to believe this but deep inside I feel an uneasy knot in my stomach. Something is wrong.

**Redfield Village(Hinterlands)**

The _elf-_ I mean 'Grand Chanter Fioana' didn't hesitate to condemn the Templars to the Herald as she approached us on our way out of Val Royeaux. She offered a possible alliance with her Rebel mages, and requested for us to meet her back in the Hinterlands. Cullen and I opposed to this during our meeting but we were ultimately outnumbered and here we are now, making our way towards the gated entrance.

"We should have asked Solas to come with us" I say to the Herald as our horses slow down to a walk. "I have a strange feeling about this"

"Are you expecting an ambush?" he says with a smirk.

"No, but it would be a mistake to believe Fiona at face value."

"If the Templars-"

"I'm not having this talk again. We'll see if this was a good decision."

He smiles "Ok"

Quite frankly, I don't know if this is a good idea or not. The rebel mages consists of those who either abandoned the Chantry or never belonged to it. We all know what happens when Mages can't control their power. It only takes one possessed mage to destroy a village and there's an army of them inside.

The only reason the two of us came alone was to pose as little a threat as possible. The Herald insisted that I accompany him here instead of Solas, who I still believe would have been the wiser choice. He wouldn't explain why but I think he believes that I am prejudiced against mages.

I'm not... Not anymore.

My anger is tested whenever I think of the blood mages that slaughtered my brother when I was a little girl, but I bury those memories. I don't want to think about him right now. Not in that way.

The gatekeeper grants us entry but appears surprised at our arrival and everyone appears to be wary of us.  A few people mention that a magister named "Alexius" was now the leader of the Mages. This is contrary to what Fiona told us a month ago and I urge the Herald to remain on guard. If he doesn't understand the urgency then there's no hope for him.

Fiona greets us inside the local tavern and questions our presence here and I feel my first wave of concern.....and then she confirms my suspicions by announcing the mages have pledged their allegiance to the Tevinter Imperium.

 _Tevinter_... Where mages rule and practice blood magic openly. The ones possibly responsible for the first blight!

"We're leaving" I don't bother to look at her. I have no respect for someone that will sell themselves into slavery for those savages.

"Cassandra-"

"No!" I make my way towards exit.

"Not a lady of manners I see" A male voice, but not the Herald. My eyes lock on the man dressed in his pompous and 'fashionable' robe and remain there. He focuses his attention on the Herald with a smug grin. " I apologize for not greeting you earlier. I am Gereon Alexius and the mages are now under my care. You are the survivor, yes? Interesting."

"When did you make a deal with Fiona?" The Herald asks, a little too friendly in my opinion.

"Right after the destruction of the conclave of course. These poor souls faced the brutality of the Templars, who rushed to attack them. It could only be through Divine providence that I arrived when I did"

He is so full of shit. Even Fiona is put off by that statement.

"Well, I could use some of the mages assistance to close the breach."

The Magister gestures the Herald to a nearby table where they continue to talk amicably. He calls to his son who appears sick and nearly collapses onto the Herald. The meeting ends abruptly with promises for a future business arrangement at his castle. I make sure he leaves before approaching the Herald who's smile has stiffened into a masked scowl.

"We need to go to Chantry" he slips a folded paper to me.

 _Come to the Chantry. You are in danger!_ the paper reads.

We position ourselves just outside the entrance. I press my ear against the wooden door. The shrieks are unmistakeable.

"Demons" I whisper to him as I slowly open the door.  We step inside to see a mage surrounded by demons. Is he using blood magic? I am not sure but he appears to be fighting them. The Herald eliminates the surrounding demons then takes aim at the man. I command him to freeze.

He merely bats his eyes. "Freeze? I'm afraid that's not one of my specialties sweetheart. Now help me close this would you?"

 

**Haven (Josephine POV)**

After a rather colorful debate, the voting has determined the following: Varric, Solas, and Leliana are all in favor of pursuing the mages. Cullen, Cassandra, Blackwall and the Iron Bull are all in favor of working with the Templars. After weighing the pros and cons for the good portion of the day, I decided to side with the mages. While the Templars would make great allies, I feel uneasy with leaving the Mages in Magister Alexius' care.The young man with the flashy robe voted in favor of the mages but his vote is invalid as he is not a core member of the Inquisition.

That leaves the Herald-who missed the debate- with the deciding vote.  His decision will go down as a historical moment and set the tone for the Inquisition. I can honestly say that I am quite excited. Just have to wait for him to arrive.

I review several of Blackwall's warden treaties for potential corrections but I have already made the final corrections on the third draft.

Then we have the proposal from the Blades of Hessarian. Their former leader managed to increase their supply cache significantly. However, his methods have been questionable. It would be ill advised openly accept stolen goods, but since we have no way of returning them....I guess we will have to remain discrete.

The Clerics will also need to be handled delicately. The actions of Lord Seeker Lucius has sparked a scandal that's taken some of the negativity off of us, but it's only a matter of time before they begin to denounce the Herald again. Perhaps I can reach out to Mother Bowen in Antiva. I'll have to-

A knock on the door.  The Herald is finally here. I clear everything off my desk except the debate manuscript. I mask my disappointment as Leliana steps inside.

"Cheer up Josie. I bring good news" she says with a smile , holding a report close to her chest.

I fold my hands on the desk and match her smile. "Is that so? What news do you bring?"

She inches closer to my desk "It looks like the Herald will ultimately side with the mages"

"and how did you conclude that?"

She hands me the report, "See for yourself"

I read the contents of the report. My face falling as the implication becomes clear. I read it again for clarity.

_Greetings Son._

_It is with great misfortune that I must inform you your cousin foolishly cut ties with the Trevelyan name to join the barbarians in Redcliffe. She has been acting strange since her return from Kirkwall but I never expected this from her. I'm afraid that she may be long gone already by the time you receive this letter. That aside, I'd like to congratulate you with your new responsibility as the Herald of Andraste. You may not have believed it, but you were always destined for greatness and I know in my heart that you were saved by the divine herself. Maybe now you can embrace that you were meant to be a Templar and serve the Chantry. I will rally the Chantry to your cause. Make me proud son._

_With love,_

_Claudius Trevelyan_

 

I glance up at Leliana who only nods her head once. "Oh my" is all I can say.

"I know", she sounds concerned. In her own way of course. But deep down she knows as well as I do that the Herald will not abandon his cousin. He spoke highly of her on several occasions and often refers to her as his own sister. 

I study her intensely. "He doesn't know yet". The look on her face... She might as well be saying 'He will very soon'. The excitement I've been feeling has suddenly turned into a dread and I know that I will have to tell him, and potentially drive a wedge between him and his family. I take a sharp exhale, figuring out how I will phrase the words.

Leliana begins to say something but the door opens abruptly as the Herald pokes his head inside, smiling. "Oh I didn't know you had company" he says

"I was just leaving." Leliana says. She silently wishes me good luck. I discretely conceal the letter as she taps the Herald politely on his forearm. "Archery practice later?"

"Yes, looking forward to it." They exchange pleasantries and she exits the room. He leans over the desk, still beaming.

"I take it your training session with the Iron Bull went well today?" I return his smile.

"I didn't vomit until the very end."

"Gross"

"And how would you have described it?" He gives me his usual playful stare.

He does this all the time. He finds something gross or inappropriate to say and asks me to repeat the phrase in a more diplomatic manner. I took offense to that in the beginning but I must admit that it is rather humorous at times the lengths we go at playing with words. I lean forward. "My training with The Iron Bull went remarkably well today. Improvements in my stamina helped me maintain my nutrition throughout the routine."

His laugh is pretty contagious and I can't help but laugh along. Officially, my duties are to help gain the confidence and backing of Thedas most influential figures, but we have had many conversations whenever hes in Haven. We talked about family, aspirations and his struggles with being the Herald. With everything that's happened It's nice to see him in a positive mood.

Perhaps that's why....

"How was the debate?"

I blink, off guard from the sudden subject change. "It was....colorful."

"Between Solas and Cassandra?"

"Somewhat, but the real debate was between Solas and the Iron Bull"

"I'd believe that. Well I've been thinking about this for some time but I think I know who to side with."

I swallow the urge to divulge the letter. "Yes?"

"I'm siding with the Templars"

"Oh." I say looking at him. "Interesting!" I quickly say with a smile to cover my shock. I was sure he was going to pick the mages, even without seeing the letter.

He sighs. " I don't know Josephine. I... I really wanted to help the mages, but as the Iron Bull and Cassandra pointed out, they're too desperate. Giving up their freedom for the Venatori? I don't know if I can get behind that"

"I understand Herald but-"

"Call me Maxwell" he says softly.

"Yes. I'm sorry that I keep forgetting. Well Maxwell, do you feel confident about your decision?"

"I believe so. I also have to think of my family in Ostwick. My father, and aunt. Uncle Brendan. I know they're devoted to the Chantry. Even my cousin Margaret.

He smiles saying her name and my heart sinks further down. I don't need to hear him say anymore. "There's something you need to know"  I say softly, passing him the letter.

He reads on and his hand shivers. His smile fades, leaving an all too familiar strain in it's place. " How long have you known?"

"I just received it seconds before you walked through the door"

He nods and hands the letter back to me. "Thank you." His voice subdue. "Call everyone down to the war room. We march to Redcliffe castle at first daylight."

What about your father? I want to ask, but I know it's inappropriate. "Yes your Worship" is all I say.

 

**Redcliffe Castle(Solas POV)**

I must admit, the Herald surprised me with his decision to seek the mages. His friendship with Cassandra and the Iron Bull has blossomed within the past two months. He also seems to have blossomed as well, if you will. His archery capabilities has improved and he appears to be in better physical condition.

I enter the castle alongside with him and Cassandra. We're greeted by a human servant that expresses his disapproval of us accompanying the Herald.

"I don't care. They go where I go" the Herald responds firmly.

The servant gives in and escorts us to the Magister who doesn't appear to be bothered by us. He greets us with his southern hospitality towards the edge of the steps. For once, I have to agree with Cassandra. He's as disingenuous as a man could be. We remain near the bottom of the steps, surrounded by his guards.

His dry dismissal of the former Rebel leaders plead to speak for her people is all I need to see.

"I'm interested in her opinion. She has every right to be included in our discussion" the Herald says calmly.

The Magister makes himself comfortable on his illegally obtained throne. "You need the mages and _I_ have them. What do _you_ have to offer me? he asks.

"Let's get straight to the point, shall we? I know that you planned to ambush me."

He objects of course but the young man standing next to him- I assume his son Felix that was mentioned during the debate- confesses his involvement with helping us.

He gives his son a disapproving glare. "Felix. What have you done?"

"Your son is concerned that you're involved in something terrible" the Herald says softly.

"You think you can turn my son against me?!" what was left of his hospitality has evaporated at this point. He stands up to address us. "You think you're in control because of powers you don't even comprehend. You're nothing but a mistake" he says bitterly.

"If you know so much then enlighten me".

"It belongs to your superiors. The ones worthy of reaching godhood"

"Father!" the man cries, clutching his parent at his cloak in a loving gesture. "Listen to yourself. This is not who you are!"

"Why yes. A villainous cliche that hails from Tevinter? That sounds just like us!" Dorian. That's his name if I remember correctly. He approaches the Alexius from his left. I can feel the Inquisition soldiers in my peripheral but the guards don't seem aware of their presence.

"Dorian. I gave you a chance to join us and you turned your back on me. The Elder one will help us rule over Thedas."

Fiona and Dorian object but are both ignored.

"Father please" Felix attempts again softly. "Let the mages help close the breach. I just want us to go home."

"No" he responds." This is the only way to save you"

"I'm going to die father. You have to accept that"

he cups his son face in his hands tenderly. "I can't. I won't" he steels his resolve again as he faces us. "Guards, the elder one demands the Heralds life. Kill him."

The guards are unresponsive. Corrections, the guards have been unresponsive for some time now. The only guards available are the Inquisition soldiers.

Cassandra and I draw our weapons

"You are a mistake." Alexius mutters, finally reaching his breaking point. He infuses his magic in an amulet but I don't know what to expect. I won't be able to dispel him fast enough.

Dorian reacts but it seems he was too late as well.

And then....

I don't know how else to explain it but the Herald and Dorian both disappear.

Dead? I can't say but he is no longer within this world.

And that means. No. It can't be. He's gone..

My extensive knowledge of the rift is not enough to close the breaches in the way the Herald can. If only things worked out the way they were supposed to. My original plan, but I suppose it doesn't matter at this point.

I failed this world, and I failed my world.

Surrendering is all I could do.

**Dragon 9:42 Redcliffe Castle-lower cells-(Maxwell's POV)**

I'm going to kill Alexius. I'm going to- I crash face first into a pool of water. The stench threatens to claim my meal as the contents are purged from my body. I wipe filth from my eyes to see two fully armored soldiers enter the cell. How did I get here? I don't...No. Only two things matters right now.

I strike the head of my arrow against the shelf of the bow. It ignites. Competing against time, I load the arrow and let it fly into the charging soldier's chest. The explosion deafens me, and I shield my body as shrapnel flies in all directions.

No scratches. I drop my guard, seeing shards disintegrate against the invisible wall in front of me. That's when I see him. The mage from Tevinter.

The barrier around us dissolves with a flick of his wrist. "And here I thought that I was one for flashy introductions." he begins, pacing around the cell with his eyes on the red lyrium, muttering something to himself.  With everything that just happened, that's the first thing he says? Very weird.

He keeps talking but I'm busy inspecting the corpses floating in the pool. I sink my knife into both men for good measure, and attempt to pacify the thoughts fighting for my attention. For starters, those guards and their surprised reactions. Where exactly are we? I didn't know mages were capable of teleporting long distances, never mind teleporting other people. And what about the others? Are they still at the castle?

"Do you know where we are?" I ask.

"Weren't you paying attention? Where we are isn't much of a concern right now" he says. Sounding somewhat in awe."It's a matter of when. Alexius used his amulet as a focus and sent us through time"

My heart skips a beat but I keep my tone even "Is that even possible?"

"More than possible. His original plan- and oh, you will _love_ this, was to remove you from time completely. If that happened, you would've never been at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and mangled his elders one's plan. I think your ambush in the castle walls made him reckless. He tossed us in the rift before he was ready. I countered it, the magic went wild, you screamed bloody murder and here we are now. Make sense?" 

If what he's saying is true then... they're all gone. Feelings of lost, anguish and uncertainty threaten to choke me. My heart beat rises in it's tempo and I turn my attention towards the locked door and then the prison guards. I need to worry about surviving right now.

I lift the keys from a raw and bloody slab of meat, previously the abdomen of Alexius's soldier and make my way towards the door.

"I guess it's a good thing that no one knows that we're here"

"I'd prefer to keep it that way. Keep your signature moves to a minimum if you can."

This is coming from a man who fashions a golden cloak that only covers half of his body. It also matches his staff. Maybe it's a Tevinter thing. The Chantry mages have robes in elaborate designs but are nowhere near as fancy. Most of the apostates i've encountered wore rags for cloths. Even Solas, but I sometimes suspect he's only doing that to make a statement.

 _Solas._ I shut out my grief as I unlock the cell. "Let's go"

Dorian explains that the amulet Alexius used to send us through the rift may possibly send us back into our time. "maybe" is his go to word. I can respect him not giving me false hope but... Damn it. I'll worry about it later.

We make our way to the upper level with no resistance. The cells are all empty with the exception of one mage reciting some verse of Andraste over and over again. He is unresponsive to our questions. If there's red lyrium in Redcliffe Castle then the Arle is likely to be gone.

I consider that possibility as Dorian forces an unaware soldier to jump off the edge by trapping him in a wall of fire. I couldn't help myself. I grip the railing and stare into the abyss below. There's no way he would survive that fall. Only Redcliffe would have such a dangerous interior design. I don't know what their intention was, but it just looks like a half finished dungeon room to me.

A vertical lift bridge blocks our passage, and we're forced to go through the only available room. A small moan breaks through the silence and we continue downstairs. I listen for other possible sounds through the door, hearing none, I step inside to see the leader of the rebel mages. 

A few scrapes on her face but it's the large clump of red lyrium in place of her lower half that chills me to the core. "You're...alive? How?" she asks. There's a whimper to her tone that wasn't there before. "I saw you...disappear...into the rift". It seems that every syllable she speaks weakens her.

"What happened to you?" I respond, ignoring her question.

"red lyrium.. It's a disease. The longer you're near it... Eventually...you become this. They then mine your corpse for more."

"Can you tell us the date?" Dorian joins. "It's very important." She then reveals that we are currently in Dragon 9:42.

A full year. _Gone._ If I'm the only one with the power to close the rifts....Dorian's plan better work.

Fiona cries out that Alexius now serves the 'Elder One' who is more powerful than the maker. According to her, Leliana is still in the castle somewhere. Alive? Maybe the others will be as well. I watch her drift in and out of consciousness as she begs us to stop this from happening.

I wish I could say I feel an ounce of empathy for her but I don't. She sold out her people into slavery, my cousin included. There's only a slim chance that Dorian can reverse this. If he cant, then we'll be facing a world ruled by demons alone. I doubt the Inquisition survived if Leliana was captured. The chances of Dorian and I being killed in the end are likely.

I shake my head vehemently. "You stupid Bitch." are the last words I tell her as she passes from this world.

 

To be continued.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Decisions part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long overdue. I apologize for the long wait and am very thankful to those who still read my writing. 
> 
> WARNING: Some of this chapter will exhibit some violent and slightly disturbing stuff. I apologize if it makes anyone uncomfortable but I wanted to capture the gravity of what happened "In Hushed Whispers." I hope you enjoy! =D

** Dragon 9:42 Redcliffe Castle(Maxwell POV) **

A faint crank upstairs is followed by a sudden thump. Someone must have lowered the bridge. The door above slams open and two soldiers seem to be calling out towards another soldier for guard rotation. They talk among themselves, criticizing the man's reputation for slacking on his duty.

Dorian and I duck into the other room as they come downstairs, the water just below my knees.

Splashing near one of the cells surprise me. "Who's there?" A male voice calls out. Definitely Fereldan, and one I've heard before, whenever we talked about....Grey Wardens!

"Blackwall?" I approach the cell.

He instantly backs away. "Andraste have mercy!" he shouts, then creeps closer and continues in a whispers. "You shouldn't be here. The dead should rest in peace."

I throw my hands out for him to lower his voice, "Blackwall-"

"No! The Qunari and I reached the meeting just before Alexius attacked. There was nothing left of you but ash!" he sits at the corner of the cell.

"What happened to Iron Bull?" No response. "Blackwall." Still nothing. 

I haven’t known Blackwall as long as I've known the others but he was a man of great confidence. Nothing like the man before me, a sullen man stripped down to his skivvies and malnourished. Just the sight of me makes him shiver.

The guards storm in only to be scorched by Dorian.

"I will explain everything soon, for now, my goal is to make Alexius pay for what he's done to you and everyone else." I open the door and slowly approach him, my hand stretch out towards him, "Will you help me?"

He looks at me once more as if he's searching the depths of my soul. Something in his eyes flicker and he accepts my hand.

Dorian continues to keep watch as I check the additional rooms and eventually find another prisoner. Cassandra! She is weaponless and is clothed like an elven slave but I am relieved to see her. She latches onto me the moment I get the cell door open and I reciprocate, knowing I won't be the first to let go. 

"I was sent forward in time. Once I find Alexius I'll bring us back."

"Is that true?" She sounds vulnerable in a childlike way.

"I promise."

She abruptly sidesteps me, "I need a weapon."

Dorian waves me over to the door the soldiers have come from. "No helmets," he says without preamble. I press my ears against the door and I too can hear the crisped tones. I interrupt Blackwall's mini reunion with Cassandra and have him open the door. The second he does, I plant my arrow into the neck of the first soldier as Dorian incinerates the second. The Mage may be annoying but he has great reflexes. I put the burning man out of his misery.

We relieve the men of their armor and roll them off the edge. Blackwall seems content with the loot but Cassandra scowls and only takes the sword. She'll be back to her normal self soon. I ask them again about our companions but they have no answers.

The element of surprise continues to be in our favor as we slaughter additional Venatori soldiers upstairs. A woman's scream travels the walls and I burst through the next door. Leliana hands are shackled upright, completely naked. A soldier stands in front of her, a branding iron in his hand. I rush towards the piece of shit but Leliana kills him with her free legs.

With the threat gone, I reluctantly face Leliana. The contusions and burn marks on her once beautiful face have aged her considerably. The opens welts on her torso are hard to take in and I stop myself from traveling beyond that. I don't need to confirm she's been violated.

"The Magister is probably in his Chambers," she says upon release with barely any inflection.

"Aren't you curious about how we got here?" Dorian asks, though I wish he hadn't.

"No."

"We were sent forward in time. We get the amulet and we can-"

"Enough." Her eyes are cold. "This is all pretend to you, some future you hope will never exist. I suffered. The whole world suffered. It was real."

Dorian's mouth gapes open but he doesn't utter another word. We were spoiled by Blackwall's and Cassandra's appreciation for our arrival and expected the same from Leliana. We rush in like white knights, filling their heads with promises of returning to our present time. And what? That they should just forget about our people that died in a losing battle? That they were imprisoned, beaten, humiliated..raped.... Those words I said to Fiona as she died, calling her a 'stupid bitch.' We don't deserve their gratitude. We should be lucky we even have their forgiveness.

Leliana picks up a quiver nearly full with arrows and straps it across her flesh. She retrieves a lone arrow with dry smudges of blood on the tip scattered with other sharp tools, and calmly places it with the others. We proceed towards the chamber. 

*************************************************

The Venatori spellbinder is the first to die as the great dining hall floods with blood, as more Venatori are slaughtered. We begin searching the bodies for loot with no assistance from Dorian. His cloak is stained in blood but he's too good to dirty his hands a bit.

"Herald, take a look at this," Blackwall says, holding a small journal in his hand. "Apparently, Alexius continued to ask for patrols even after they had successfully taken over Thedas. With the exception of the unbound demons, there's no reason for him to feel threatened, unless what Cassandra said is true."

"You mean the Elder One?" Dorian asks.

"I'm afraid so." Cassandra says as she joins us empty handed. "As I said before, the Elder One summoned an army of demons after the assassination of Empress Celene. I once overheard the guards mention that Alexius refuses to leave his room."

"That may mean that he also doesn't trust his guards fully. Not all of them," I say, taking this in. That would explain why the door leading to his room is protected by a magic shard, split into five pieces. We found three so far. Solas would've been helpful. "Leliana, What happened to Solas and Varric?" Maybe she remembers something. I _need_ to know.

Leliana continues looting bodies,"Solas was captured. I escaped and reported that Cassandra and Blackwall were taken in the castle after your demise. The Inquisition was pushed back from the Hinterlands and made our last stand in Haven until we were overwhelmed. It doesn't matter though. They could only be prisoners or dead. No use to us either way." I can't dispute that. Thedas is a walking demon land with no one around to close the rifts. How long could they survive in a world like that?

Leliana hands me the bloody diamond shape shard. I squeeze the shard, brushing the rough surface with my thumb. Just one more. "We'll get our answers." I can only hope so.

We sweep through the lower royal wing as searching for the final shard raises our sense of urgency. We then do a thorough sweep of the upper royal wing, disturbing the dead bodies in the process. Nothing.

Thunder erupts from the main hall. A rift has been opened. Another mage? Everyone seems to be keeping pace with my thoughts, and we burst through the main hall. There is a mage and he may well hold the final shard. A few demons surround him but we still outnumber them.

The mark on my hand swells and I can fell the heaviness of the rift as I try to absorb the energy, unable to do anything else during this process. The others contend with the mage and the demons. Dorian's barrier begins to weaken as traces of the mage's flame stab my right thigh. I hold on long enough to tear out the first layer of the rift. Its effect on the demons is immediate as they're momentarily immobilized, long enough to be slaughtered.

The Mage still stands but his barrier has also been exhausted. With staggered breaths, I attempt the final absorption to-- Instinct overtakes me and I stagger back as steel cuts through the space I once stood. I draw my bow but have no time to fire an arrow as the blade stabs at me again. The blade connects with my bow and I'm knocked back by the sheer force.

He's huge but I'm more worried about his blade than his appearance. He stops short of rushing me and slices an incoming arrow with his sword. I capitalize on Leliana's distraction and plant my knife into his torso. His hold on the blade slips, but not before he slams me against the wall by my neck. I claw away at his hands but his iron-like grip threatens to crush my windpipe. It's almost as terrifying as his horns..... Horns? I lock onto his face and find the Qunari staring back at me. Eye patch over his left eye, foaming with blood lust but it's him. The Iron Bull!

This is personal now, and somehow feels even more painful than if it was a random brute attempting to end my life. My throat burns and I'm no longer clawing but tugging gently at his forearm, begging him to see my mark. To remember. He pulls me off the wall, my back facing Leliana. The grip isn't as tight as before but he's pushing me backwards, I imagine in an attempt to prevent her from attempting another shot. This is bad.

"Iron Bull!" Cassandra yells. The name registers no response. He slams me into Cassandra, knocking her backwards. Blackwall closes in but is also knocked back as he can't swing his blade without risking me. Darkness slowly takes me over, the bloodlust still burning in Iron Bull's demeanor.

No. Not like this. Not like _this,_ I thought. He's my friend. This can't be real. I'm dreaming. I can feel myself getting delusional as oxygen continues to elude me. Maybe he's really a demon.

With no options left, I attempt to close the rift from this position. He tenses and I anticipate him snapping my neck like twigs. He releases me immediately and I collapse to my knee, my throat on fire as I continue to close the rift. A shriek erupts next to me as a creature with purple skin shaped as a naked woman disappears into the rift that explodes into nothingness.

"Boss?" The Iron Bull says bewildered, helping me to my feet.

I utter weak syllables in response, struggling to catch my breath.

"Herald, get away from him!" Leliana demands. I get to my feet but remain still, subconsciously touching my neck confused.

The Iron Bull shoves me away and rips the blade from his stomach.

I watch in horror as he plunges the knife into his neck and collapses. He drowns in his own blood.

The naked purple skin demon appears again, surprise on her face.  Leliana shoots her down.

"But why?" I rasp, my voice now hoarse.

"I'm afraid your friend was corrupted by a desire demon." Dorian says, tending to my wounds. “They generally possess mages but with the state of things now, I imagine few mages are available for possession. Possessing a Qunari is unprecedented though." He trails off and looks at me apologetically. "There was nothing more you could do. Desire demons rarely part from their host without something in return. He knew that." The Iron Bull... _I was wrong for doubting you my friend._ Dorian holds up the final shard. "We can still help him."

The shard fragments are placed in the empty spaces. Dorian mutters words beyond my comprehension and the door comes to life as if it was possessed, granting us passage into Alexius' chambers.

His back faces us as we advance towards him, staff in his hand. "I knew you would appear again. Not now, but I knew I hadn't destroyed you." He turns to me, "My final failure." Wrinkles crease his forehead and he looks as if he hasn't slept in days. I expected a fight but it seems that Alexius is no longer a threat.

Dorian steps forward. "Was it worth it Everything you did to the world? To-Felix! Maker’s breath, Alexius, what have you done?" I follow Dorian's gaze to the creature hunched over in the chair, Felix. He looks as if he's been aged by 100 years.

"I saved him!"

"Did you really?” I ask with genuine sincerity, my voice still hoarse. I approach Felix and gently shake him. He blinks, but does nothing else. "Is this what you wanted?"

Alexius takes some time to respond. "It doesn't matter now. After all that I've done. There is nothing else but ruin and death. All we can do is wait for the end."

"What do you mean?" I make my way from Felix to Alexius. My proximity doesn't alarm him. 

He gives a weak laugh. "The irony that you should appear now. The Elder One _knows_ you're here. He comes for you, for me, for everyone in this room."

I grab him firmly by the shoulder, "We can fix this. We can! Just give us the amulet."

He somberly shakes his head. "You have no idea how many times I've tried to-" I drive my blade into his stomach, turning it to rupture any chance of a recovery. The staff clatters to the ground and I hold on as the brightness of his eyes fades away. 

Leliana forms a bloody smile under Felix's neck. He didn't flinch or move away from her. No different than putting down a sick dog. Awful.

Dorian kneels besides Alexius's fallen body, "You wanted to die didn't you?" He whispers, retrieving the amulet. "All those lies, the justifications. Felix died long ago and you never even noticed."

"I'm sorry Dorian. I know you cared for them both," I say.

"Alexius was once a man who I admired above all others. Sad isn't it?"

The ground beneath me shakes, a chorus of hysteria vibrates through the walls. I know it's not an earthquake.

A lot of things happen: Dorian pulls me towards the end of the room, Cassandra and Blackwall leave to face to threat outside, and Leliana stands with her arrow aimed at the door. This is it.

"Don't look." Dorian says sternly, his energy directed towards the floating amulet. I know I shouldn't but my eyes betray me the minute those doors swing open. Cassandra's bloody flesh is trampled as the small horde of demons stalk through. I can't see Blackwall but I know he's no longer in this world.

Leliana makes the most of her arrows, keeping the demons from reaching us. Despite her injuries, her speed and accuracy is incredible. I can learn a great deal from her if we survive. Her streak is cut short as an arrow pierces her shoulder, the head poked out as an ugly extension of her body.

Dorian yanks me from my collar the instant I launch forward, "You move, and we all die!" he barks. The amulet disintegrates, replaced by a large green veil similar to the rifts I closed. 

Leliana fights on ignoring the arrow, exceeding my expectations.  She is eventually overwhelmed as one Venatori soldier restrains her, and a demon begins to mutilate her naked body.

 _This isn't real. This isn't real!_ I replay the thoughts in my head. The demons rush towards us, intent on keeping us here. They close the distance, raising their slimy sharp claws at us. 

I black out.

*******************************

Vertigo takes over as I struggle to open my eyes. The spinning slows and the scenery settles.

I'm sitting in a small room that's well furnished. Light pours through the windows on all four sides. Fire crackles at the fireplace in front of me. The bed stands behind me, and I'm surprised to find myself seated in the chair, considering I just woke up.

Cassandra steps in wearing her signature armor.  She's alive! My glee is cut short as I notice an all too familiar strain in her face. "What's wrong?" I ask.

She steps a few feet away from me. "I'm sorry, Herald, but I need to make sure you're not a danger to anyone."

I blink, confused. I attempt to rise and realize I can’t. My hands are shackled behind the chair.

 

To be continued.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. The Breaking Point

**Dragon 9:41 Cassandra POV(Haven- prior to conclave explosion)**

The wooden floor creaks beneath my boots as I pace back and forth inside this small shack. I hold the blank paper towards the fireplace which is my only illumination at this time. No matter how hard I try, I can't find the words that I want to say. That I want him to know.

A knock on the door startles me and I'm not prepared. I open it anyway to find him in the doorway, still stylish as ever. His long brown hair still ends at his shoulders, along with the small patch of hair on his chin. How did he keep it so neat? If only he lost that ridiculous enchanters robe he's been parading around in all night

“Ahem” he coughs and I take in his blue eyes, clear under the moonlight. “As much as I enjoy your lustful gaze, I'd prefer you do that inside, where it's warm?” he grins. 

I mull his words over and this I realize that I'm blocking the doorway. I roll my eyes and step aside. “You got legs. Use them.”

He steps inside and close the door. “Cassandra, I just wanted to apolo-” My mouth is already on his before he can say another word.“ I missed you.” he moans into my mouth. He tastes of oranges and I now know the 'thief' who stole Cullen's snack but I don't care. It's been almost a year since I tasted him. The thought increases my hunger and I want to savor the moment. “My robe!” he giggles in mock horror as I slam him against the door.

“Lose it or I'll rip it off myself” I whisper into his ear. He yanks it off as if it caught on fire and we resume kissing, his hands on my waist, pulling me closer. We find ourselves in a race to see who could get the other naked first,.

The clothes lead a messy trail towards the bed where I'm straddling him as he cups my breast. Our breathing gets ragged as we fall into the rhythm I created. The more his eyes penetrate me, the faster I ride him. I bend forward to kiss him gently but he has other plans and rolls me over, and I hold on for dear life as he plunges deep into me. It's amazing how well he knows my body.

 

***********************

 

I rest my head on his chest as we lay together in the darkness. The sheets still moist from our activity. “You said you wanted to apologize” I say, lightly caressing his chest.

He strokes my hair, but doesn't say anything for awhile. “We don't have to talk about it now.” He finally offers.

“Regalyan.” I look up at him. The playful nature is gone, replaced by an all too familiar sullen frown. 

He gingerly kiss my forehead and I lie my head back on his chest. “ Where to begin?” he sighs. “I regret not accompanying you when you first left. I never expected it would grow into..” he trails off and I wait for him to continue. “I'm sorry for getting angry at you when you suggested we keep our distance. With the rebellion at it's worst, there's no telling how the Templars would view Divine Justinia if her right hand had an apostate for a lover”

I abruptly push off him, offended. His laugh calms me a little. “I don't like saying it either but without the Circle.” There's no need for him to explain. Mages outside of the Circle are considered apostates and a danger to humanity. “Promise you won't be mad at me.” He continues, breaking eye contact with me, something he hasn't done since the first time he told me he loved me.

His eyes dances around the room until he gathers the courage to face me again. “ For the past year, I thought about you, worried about you as you looked for the Hero of Fereldan and then the Champion of Kirkwall. I was even a little jealous that those two were more of a priority than me. I heard Hawke was quite the ladies man- I'm kidding!” he chuckles after I punch him in the shoulder. “The point is, I have something that many mages in the other Circles don't: The freedom to come and go as I please. I can understand the resentment that-”

“You're having doubts about the Circle.” I cut him off. Harsher than I intended.

I feel his heartbeat rise in tempo and I can feel mine rise as well. “I'm sorry. What is it?” I ask softy.

He recoils a bit but doesn't look away. “I think, some people lost the purpose of what the circle was for: To give mages a safe place to harness their magic for their protection and humanity in general. Not to treat them like second class.”

“What are you saying?” I ask softly.

“The Peace Summit Divine Justinia called for must work if we want to end the Mage-Templar war.“ He curls his fingers around mine and kisses my hand. “That's why I agreed to come to the conclave. We need to revive the circle but reform it a little for both sides. I hope it's not too late”

“You worry too much. It will work.”

“Of course beautiful. You're always right” he says, playfully kissing my forehead. “When this is over, we should consider our future. I'm ready if you are.”

Warmth spreads through my chest and possibly my cheeks for it feels warmer than before. In all these years, I never thought that I would find someone who would be interested in me due to my dedication of being a Seeker and now the right hand of the Divine. Nor did I expect that I would fall in love with a Mage. The Maker works in mysterious ways.

“You'll have to come up with a better proposal than that” we laugh and he holds me tighter. 

“I love you” he whispers.

“I love you too.” He continues to hold me as we sleep. To think that one day we will be married, maybe even have a child. I hope it's a girl. Girls are easier to deal with but I would love a boy the same. 

I dream of the wedding and living happily ever after with Regalyan, knowing one day it won't be a dream. The maker will see us through this.

 

**Maxwell(Redcliffe)**

“Cassandra?” I call out to her bewildered, struggling to break free. No use. My hands are definitely shackled behind the chair.

“Stop moving” she says, her eyes deadpan. That tone again. She hasn't spoken to me like that since the explosion. Why would she do that? Why am I shackled? It doesn't make any sense.

“ _ Because it's not real. _ ” A gravelly voice echoes through the room

I glance around the room again but it's only Cassandra and me. She doesn't appear bothered by the intrusion. The bed appears real. The light shining through the windows appear real. And the fireplace, and these shackles. All real. 

“ _But where were you just moments ago? Weren't you swarmed by demons?”_ It continues, mocking me. “ _ Demons who delivered the final blow that melted the flesh off of your bones?”  _ It sounds confident. Like it knows that I am dead and is just waiting for me to realize it myself. 

“No.” whisper. I try to sound more convincing “No! That's not true”

“ _You should've killed the Qunari, 'Herald of Andraste.'. Such foolishness for you to believe that you could stand up to him, but that's besides the point. If you are so eager to believe that the room you're in is real, then be ready to be slaughtered by the Qunari!”_

I don't even have time to process anything when the door opens. And the Iron Bull steps in. He's not happy. Cassandra doesn't stop him and they both advance towards me.

“ _These are your final moments 'Chosen One'.”_ But it's the quiet laughter that gets under my skin because it doesn't stop. It keeps getting louder. 

I summon every muscle in my body to propel out of the chair but it's no use. They're too close now. I'm begging them to go away, eyes shut. Large hands grip my skull, telling me to open my mouth. Never. I won't let them cut off my tongue.

I kick the Qunari blindly with all my might and he doubles over. I kick him again and he backs away. I can do this.

“Alright that's enough!” a woman besides me yell before she slaps me across the face. Not a forceful slap, but one made to get my attention.“Look at me,” she says softly. I know that voice. She shares the dialect of my homeland in Ostwick.. The same voice that teased that I was adopted by either the Dwarves or the Qunari because of my deeper tone, far from the polite elegance of my people.

Her complexion is lighter than mine, but even with the large tangle of brown hair obscuring her face, we have the same eyes. “Amelia?” I ask?

“So you haven't gone completely mad at least, yeah?” she holds a strange concoction towards my lips. “Drink.”

I obey. It's an awful taste of green apple and sewage water but I swallow it down, gagging at the end. Meanwhile, she's tagging at my bandaged torso- That I am just noticing for the first time- revealing three grotesque scratches that were recently treated.

“I knew it,” Amelia brushes her glowing hand near my wound, tending to a rash of purple hives that are now visible. Without any explanation, she tends to the wounds until the hives dissipates.

You were cursed by a hallucination hex,” she continues. “It doesn't take effect immediately, but it slowly distorts your perception of reality. The greater amount of trauma you experience throughout the window period determines the severity of the distortion.“

I nod a few times before breaking away to look at Cassandra. “What did I do?”

Cassandra folds her arms. “You attacked the Magister, screaming that he should be dead. You then lashed out at Fiona and demanded that she bring Amelia here. You also had us apprehend Dorian.”

That doesn't make any sense. Dorian was the one who reversed Alexius's spell and returned us to the present. I had to be out of my mind to suggest that he was somehow a traitor. Unless that too was of my imagination.

And then there's the scratch on my stomach. My thoughts on that is fuzzy. I don't remember actually being hit. I just remember being there and then waking up here.

“You say that like it's a bad thing, Seeker.” Iron Bull interjects.

“I'm still not convinced that was the right move,” Cassandra continues, “but with all that's happened, it was better safe than sorry.” She releases me from my shackles.

I don't move. I cant stand to look at Iron Bull right now. Did he really stab himself in the neck? I don't care what the voices in my head was telling me, I _SAW_ him stab himself.. After he tried to kill me. The iron grip he had on my neck is something I will never forget. 

Why didn't Cassandra ask about my neck wound? There's only two explanations : Dorian tended to them, or it never happened. We were in a hurry after the Iron Bull “died”. I didn't bother to ask Dorian about the burn I sustained...

I feel around my right thigh, feeling a slight sting.

“Let him go. He's innocent.” I demand.

“Are you-”

“Yes. I need to speak with him, now.”

Amelia helps me out of my chair and she's averting her gaze now, uncharacteristic of her. Almost as if she's embarrassed to be seen as a rebel mage in front of me. She should know me by now. I give her a quick squeeze and plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “I already knew, and I support your decision,” I whisper into her ear.

I follow Cassandra's lead, mulling over the mess I created. Fiona's pleading voice becomes more coherent as we return to the main hall where we first met Alexius.

“Your Majesty, we never intended-” Fiona begins.

“I know what you intended.” King Alistair cuts in. Maker, I can't believe this. King Alistair in the flesh. He's a bit shorter than what the tales suggested but wow did he have a presence. He fold his arms and lets out a pitying sigh. “I wanted to help you, but you've made it impossible. You and your followers are no longer welcomed in Fereldan.”

Fiona jaw slackens. “But we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?”

“You can still come with us” a small voice creeps in and I realize it was me.

“And what are the terms of this arrangement?” Her face contorts into a scowl. There's no question who it was intended for.

“You don't get to be mad,” I say, now irritated. “You have no idea what I witnessed because of _you_.” I step closer.

“Is he going to be a problem?” King Alistair asked.

“No your Majesty” Cassandra and I blurt out simultaneously. I compose myself a bit but my anger has yet to simmer. “You sold out your people to Tevinter. I'm not sure if I can trust you, so this is your last chance.”

“What are you saying?” She asks hesitantly.

“I'm saying this is your last chance to show you can be reliable. If we're going to work together, I need to believe you won't turn your back on us the moment trouble start.

“You're not asking us to surrender as prisoners?”

“No, but let me be clear: Amelia is no longer under your care.”

A small smile curves Fiona's lips. “You will not regret giving us this chance.” She leaves the castle with several with a few mages.

“I'm glad that's settled.” Alistair chimes in. “You all have until sundown to evacuate.” I notice that Alistair is looking at me and I attempt to hold his gaze but falter under his scrutiny, growing self conscious of the dry grime, soot and blood staining my coat. He begins to say something when his eyes tilt upwards “Leliana?” His tone less authoritative now. Friendly even.

“King Alistair “ she responds. A little coolly in comparison to his warmness. When did she get here? “It's been a long time.”

“Indeed it has.” They're quiet for a moment. “Are you still with him?”

“Yes.” It is only a guess, but I believe they are talking about the Hero of Fereldan. According to the tales, he and Leliana were an item during that time. Looks like they still are.

“Have you heard from him lately? I've written to him but I don't think my messengers were ever able to find him.”

“ Not since he left last year.”

Alistair frowns but straightens up immediately. “I see. Well if you hear from him, please tell him that I'm sorry.... And that I miss him.” He breaks away to address us all. “May the Maker ensure you a safe travel” and he excuses himself, leaving his guards to supervise us.

That was...weird. I always wondered what happened during their Journey but Leliana seldom talked about anything that involved the Warden or Alistair. Or really anything for that matter.

Maybe she'll be more open to talk after the breach is closed.  
  


***********************************************

**(Haven)**

I decided to accept the Mages as equals and have gotten shit for it all the way back from Haven. Mainly from Cassandra and the Iron Bull, and now from Cullen who has been raving for over a minute now. Cassandra and the other advisors field his wrath but I can barely hear him at this point.

As much as I can't stand him I can't help but stare. Maybe it's the blonde hair or the swishy motions he makes with his hand, but he seems very similar to King Alistair...

What an impression that was to meet the King for the first time in person, only to be told to 'get the hell off his property.' He asked Leliana about the Hero of Fereldan and looked momentarily distraught at her response but quickly dropped the subject.

Needless to say, he wanted nothing to do with me or the rebel Mages who were now homeless and forced to accept our terms. No matter how powerful Mages are, they wouldn't survive without a place of refuge.

Cassandra's suggestions to place them under careful restriction made sense, given what happened. She told me not to allow my judgment to be skewed because Amelia is a rebel Mage, but I still would have made the choice even if she wasn't.

How many times will these Circles rise and fall before we realize that the system we implemented is broken? Mages are ripped from their families the moment their powers are discovered at a young age and thrown into schools with others. Constantly being told that they're different from normal people, that they're dangerous to society so they can't be given the same rights. And after being force fed those realities, they have to undergo a trial with their lives at stake, Templars ready to kill them should they fail the trial.

“What else is there to explain, Cullen?” I snap. “We need them to close the Breach.”

“I know we need them for the Breach, but they could do as much damage as the Demons themselves!” Cullen responds, turning his attention to Cassandra. “You were there Seeker. Why didn't you intervene?”

“I still don't fully agree with it, but I support his decision.” She says, giving me a nod of approval. “The task was to recruit the Mages and he did”

“But-”

“Your point has been made,” I cut him off. “This is their chance to prove themselves. If they turn out to be unworthy then you'll have the right to constrict them yourself.” Where did all of _that_ come from? That was the firmest I've ever been, but I'm not finished. I turn my attention to the rest. “The most important thing is what's supposed to happen if we fail: The assassination of Empress Celene, and an Army of Demons led by someone called 'The Elder One.' That future must never happen. We're going to need a lot of Lyrium. I know someone that could give us a nice surplus.

“You mean a smuggler,” Josephine muses.

I flash her a smile “I'm sure you can find a more diplomatic title.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just keep it under the table. I'll do what I can to quiet any rumors.”

“Oh. Before I forget,” Leliana chimes in, “We have a representative of 'The Red Jenny's' by the name of Sera. My agents have already completed a thorough investigation of her. Quite the colorful character. Speak with her when you get the chance. Maker knows what stories Varric has put in her head by now. 

I nod and excuse myself to the bathing area, forgetting my request for Leliana to begin her background check on Dorian. I'm sure she's already on it, with him being from Tevinter after all. She can worry about that. I'll worry about the Mages, Sera, Dorian, Amelia.... No. Right now, I need quiet. Right now, I need to bathe.

  
  


**Dragon 9:40 Cullen POV( Kirkwall Gallows)**

First Echanter Orsinio, a man who once fought beside Commander Meredith and the Champion against the Arishok is now dead. Slain by the Champion after he used blood magic to turn into an abomination.

And now... The Champion has decided to challenge the Templars in a war where there would be no winners.

Who would've thought that the same man who helped to end the Qunari takeover in Kirkwall would be the same cause for it's destruction just a few years later?

Dismissing the jokes he made at my expense, I never had a problem with him. He helped my investigation regarding the missing Templar recruits and returned one safely to us.

Meredith, however, never cared much for the Champion . She made that clear a few times when he smuggled himself in Kirkwall by the skin of his teeth, but never saw him as a threat.

He was only known as Hawke back then. A man who was constantly up to mischief with his younger sister, dwarven sidekick and sketchy pirate girlfriend. That same girlfriend who turned out to be the cause of the Arishok's presence to begin with.

It was when he became known as “The Champion” that Meredith began to see him as a threat due to his rising influence.

Looking at him now, as he march towards our army with his companions and fellow Mages, he's no longer the wise cracking, promiscuous ladies man that the Guard Captain occasionally babysat, but a man who may incite a war that none of us are ready for. He must be arrested.

I'm not even sure why I continue to call him the Champion at this point. Letting the apostate escape unharmed after what he did is not worthy of the title. Grand cleric Elthinia was respectful to all of us, and the Chantry was always a safe place for me to go for prayers when I needed. I hope her death was painless.

Meredith sets her cold gaze towards the Mage sympathizer. “And here we are, Champion, at long last”

He doesn't respond immediately. Despite his confidence, his eyes fall on the Elf that once stood with him but is now on our side. “You'll pay for what you've done here,” he retorts, finally looking at her.

“I will be rewarded for what I've done here, In this world, and the next! I have done nothing but perform my duty. What happens to you now is your own doing. You are no Mage, but in supporting them you've elected to share their fate.”

“Knight-Commander,” I interject, “I thought we intended to arrest the champion”

“You will do as I command, Cullen” she demands. 

“No. I defended you when Thrask started whispering you were mad. But this is too far.”

“I will not allow for insubordination! We must stay true to our path!” She aims her blade in my direction. A blade forged of Red Lyrium. 

I back away from her. This is madness! She has truly gone mad.

“You recognize it, do you not? Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The Dwarf charged a great deal for his prize”

“The idol nearly poisoned Bartrand's mind in the end” Hawke says, not moving a muscle. 

“He was weak, whereas I am not!” she retorts, waving that wretched sword towards our men, ordering them to exterminate the champion. I can't allow this.

“Enough! This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, step down. I relieve you of your command!”

She begins to spout outlandish accusations of me falling prey to blood magic, calling us cowards. When no one steps to her side, she focuses her blade on the Champion.

“You'll have to get through me first”

“Idiot boy,” she snarls. “Just like all the others”

With the blade, she summons monstrosities, poised to kill everyone in the battlefield as she relentlessly targets the Champion.

“Our priority is to stop Meredith!” I command, making my next words loud enough for everyone to hear. “Do not engage the Champion, his companions or the Mages unless they attack you first! “

This is my only warning to both sides. Anyone foolish enough to ignore it will have only themselves to blame.

Meredith's creatures are overwhelmed as her blades fail to penetrate the Champion. I take this opportunity to flank her but she knocks him back long enough to summon a grotesque life-like soldier bearing her face and physique, only made of stone.

The stoned soldier makes a dash for the Mages that have no doubt been stripped of their abilities due to Merediths Templar training that has been amplified by the red lyrium. Bethany and the elven girl are the only ones able protect themselves as the other Mages are slaughtered.

My men become overwhelmed by our own stone soldiers that Meredith tosses our way, some crushed to death under the massive weight.

“Attack the Warden next!” Meredith yells through ragged breaths, still trading blows with the Champion, who technique is beginning to slip as he glances around him.

I parry away a fatal blow meant for him and he scrambles towards his sister. A warden? When did that happen?

The elf knight also makes his way towards the Champion, raising his sword.....towards the Champion!

Two bolts punctures his wrist , one through his neck and he staggers forward.

His body slams to the ground as the Champion kneels towards him, bewildered and panicked.

Meredith turns my attention towards her and the last I hear from the Champion is a stifle cry for his former ally, as blood continues to stain the Gallows.

Meredith's blood lust increases as her body glows in a matching fashion. Her increased stamina and durability grows too much for me alone. The last blow obliterated my shield to shreds and I fall down.

She raises her blade over me and becomes immobilized. The stone soldiers disintegrate as Meredith crystallizes into a statue.

I stand to my feet and face a solemn Hawke, and companions. All poised to attack.

I look at the remainder of my men. There's enough of us to overpower them but the amount of lives potentially lost to arrest this one man is not worth the risk. We'd have to kill them, which was exactly why I opposed Meredith to begin with.

I signal my men to sheathe their weapons. “Leave while you still can,” I say. Not as an order but they obey nonetheless.

Kirkwall have gained enough dead bodies for the night. Meredith and an elf named Fenris were the last two to be claimed tonight.

 

**Dorian(Haven)**

Alas the Breach is closed, and now the Herald's popularity can rival Empress Celene's pillow fluffer.  It's amazing what happens when you not only survive an explosion, but gain magical abilities after. 

I can see why they are in full worship for Andraste now and the Divine. Unfortunately the masses are misinformed. the Divine is actually a male. At least that's the belief in Tevinter.

Besides the little flare of scandal added to my dossier, Tevinter is like that big bad wolf to the majority of Thedas. It's a bit humorous to hear of such criticism from fellow Mages.

To those outside , they can only imagine a society filled with Mages ruling over elven slaves. That may be true but there's more to Tevinter than the elven slaves that give me foot massages after an afternoon stroll from my kitchen to the bedroom.

We do have the typical Mages that vie for supremacy within the Magisterium. They play their own version of the game where power, family, sex, and death are expected. Just like Orlais, we just look better doing it.

We have the Laetans who are the late bloomer Mages. They go their whole life as second class until they accidental burn the sheets during a late night rendezvous while their parents are away.

We have the Altus, those believed to be descendants of Magisters that could speak to old gods. I am technically what one would call an Altus but that's just tradition trying to piggy back off of my stellar abilities. Taking credit for my wit and charm would be beyond their comprehension anyways.

Then we have the non mages or what we would call the “Soporati.” Unlike in Fereldan or Orlais, families here are praying that their children _do_ have magical abilities. They general work as merchants or some other role of service and can own land. The mages are the ones with the real power though. 

Finally we have the slaves, who also get into the spirit of class-ism and nobility. 

Despite popular belief, blood magic is not common with us. It's just less scandalous. I don't personally see a problem with blood magic as long as the proper precautions are made.

That's one area where my fellow brethren and I differ, but then again I've become a pariah to everything that a good Tevinter Mage of my standing would represent.

Yet here I am as a representative of Tevinter on my shoulders. My ancestors would be _proud._  

I wonder how long before I make myself a pariah here as well? The constant stares and whispers. They probably aren't fond of me, but I wouldn't either if I didn't look this gorgeous. They're being awfully civil tonight but almost everyone is civil during a party. 

Varric was the only person I talked to throughout the trip to close the breach. 

I have discussed a great deal about magic and spirits with Solas but he disappeared not long after we closed the breach. Something about magical ruins. An excursion I much rather be doing. Word is, he has returned.

I catch a glimpse of Solas leaving the Tavern. Or is the healer's house? All of these shacks lack any originality.

“How were the spirits?” I ask.

His tone is somewhat curt. “Free, intelligent living creatures like always.” It may be the snow, but he looks rather serious for someone who has a great interest in spirits and the fade.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing” That's what his mouth says but his eyes say something different, and it has nothing to do with snow. Could he still be upset about the misunderstanding we had earlier?

“Solas, have I offended you?”

“If you have , why would it concern you?”

“Because we're here working together for a common cause, and because I respect your abilities.”

“My ability as a Mage.”

“Well, I... realize there's more to you than that.”

“The differences between us are not technicalities to be discarded, Dorian. If you'll excuse me,I have something to discuss with the spymaster.” He's off before I can apologize. I didn't mean to offend him. I was just trying to find some common ground with him.

In my homeland, we keep spirits as servants. They're amorphous constructs of the fade and can be made into many tangible and magical things. For example, a spirit that opens doors to whoever steps foot within two feet. We even train them to recognize faces to keep out the riff raff.

Feeling more like a pariah than I would like, I take shelter inside their poor excuse for a Tavern. It's packed and no one bats an eye towards my entrance. I see a blonde dwarf and a man in desperate need of a trim. The Dwarf name was easier to remember as he liked to hear himself talk just as much as I do. I can't quite remember the other one. What was his name? Blackfence? Darkwall? No matter, they're the only people I know so I make my way over.

Varric is the first to speak. “There you are Sparkler. You're just in time. Grab a mug, take a load off.”

“Sparkles?” I roll my eyes but sit down. “Is that really my nickname for the group?”

“If it makes you feel better, the other mage is called 'Chuckles.' You more than earned this nickname.“

This got a _chuckle_ out of me. I mean can Solas even laugh? Is he capable of such a thing? I look over and see the hairy man was not amused. He gets to his feet grumbling about Warden business with the Commander, says goodbye to Varric and gives me an insincere nod.

“Please don't tell me his name is 'Happy'?” I say after he leaves.

Varric chokes on his drink as he laughs. “Now Sparkler” he begins gaining his composure, “I have never met a happier pers-” he starts laughing again. His laughing is contagious and I find myself laughing as well, feeling more relaxed.

“I still think you're wrong about the Herald” Varric begins. “There is no way on the Makers grave that he will have sex with Cassandra.”

“You didn't see the way he looked at her back at the camp.”

“I bet you 10 Royals they will never happen. The day they get together is the day hell freezes over. “

“So if I polish up on my ice techniques and freeze over hell, would I still win?”

Varric silently takes another swig but I know smugness when I see it. Very well then. Perhaps the Herald could use some _persuasion_. I leave my mug with him. Hopefully he'll blackout on the rare occasion my hunch is wrong.

I head outside and hear the worst chorus imaginable. It's coming from the campfire at the center. 

I see the Herald huddled up with his cousin, arm draped around her shoulder. He's singing at the top of his lungs and appears piss drunk. Amelia looks happy as well.

The Qunari and his friends surround the Herald, and he seems to be leading the song. He should be tried for verbal assault and attempted death by ear infection. They all should.

Yet here I stand, watching them. Watching  _him_ .

Smiling looks good on the Herald. He should try it more. I mean... Not saying I fancy him or anything. Just that he....would be more charming if he smiled a bit.

I should be there too, but would they want me? I stand motionless, unable to decide what to do.

This must be a Qunari song. I've never heard something more outrageous. So dreadful.....

Now I find myself humming to it.

Enough excuses. It's a party after all and I always make parties interesting. They should be thankful I want to go down there.

I take a deep breath and glance at the night sky as fiery arrows rain through the village. 

 


End file.
